


A Dissonance Unknown

by ohahoneyboy



Category: South Park
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Overdosing, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohahoneyboy/pseuds/ohahoneyboy
Summary: Two years of a growing sadness and deteriorating friendships leads up to a failed attempt by Kyle to take his own life. Now he's struggling with feelings of guilt and regret, made worse by his ex-bestfriend showing back up in his life at the worst possible time.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Gerald Broflovski/Sheila Broflovski, Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Randy Marsh/Sharon Marsh, Shelly Marsh/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you didn't read the tags, this fic is centered around the suicide of the main character and his thoughts often depict suicidal ideation. Please be careful if you think this content could trigger or harm you! <3

Kyle was not himself. He couldn’t remember the last time that he was. A heavy and burdening sadness had replaced what was once within him. Fiery passion and a moral compass that faltered only occasionally, a drive to achieve and to lead; All washed away by the frigid indifference of sadness. He supposed it was more than just sadness, yet supposed it was less than it. This feeling that intruded and made its home in him, that had filled him up so completely without him even noticing its arrival. It was emptiness. It was being hollow and apathetic, but so, so angry at the same time. It twisted up his words and made them sour before they could even be spoken. He didn’t have a chance against that, did he?

How could he redeem himself and take back all of the wrong he had done. He couldn’t, he knew that now. He’d drifted into himself and pushed away everyone around him. Poison on a once golden tongue had sunk into the veins of his loved ones. At first they had fought it. They told him it was alright, that they understood and he could take all the time he needed to get better. His mother scheduled appointments and his father promised the extra work he had to do to pay for them was no stress at all. But stressful was all that things were for the Broflovski family lately.

His mother had no time for the youngest of the family, a young boy of only ten named Ike who didn’t understand. His father had no time for himself and Kyle had seen the circles darkening under his eyes, a mirror image of his own tired face. Kyle himself had been floating listless for years. He couldn’t remember when it had begun, but a faint feeling of dread had settled over him and simply never left. He could recall days when it was almost like the feeling had finally lifted, but something always pushed it back into him. Stronger and more suffocating than ever.

Things like seeing his bestfriend growing closer with a mutual he’d once not cared very much for. Like seeing his little brother, curled against their parents in the same way that he used to and realising that they looked so much better without him there. Things like hearing everyone in that shitty little town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Colorado talk about plans they’d never really pursue. Oh, sure they’d talk about it but they’d all end up the same. Stuck in their hometown, growing complacent like their parents before them.

Kyle didn’t want that for himself, so he strived to become something greater. Top of his class, nose always in a book, feet planted firmly on the ground. His eye was on the prize since the fourth grade but it was inevitable - wasn’t it? That complacency. He got older, quieter. Always thinking but never about the right things. His kid brother was the same age Kyle was only a week ago. It could have only been a week ago.

  
He turned his back for a moment and everything changed. He grew up. His friends had grown up in a different way. They became complacent too, but they didn’t know it. Or maybe they did and didn’t mind it. Kyle didn’t know - couldn’t know because they barely spoke anymore. They’d invited him to hang out, until they didn’t. They called and texted and stopped by to check up on him, until they didn’t. And when he woke up one day to realise he hadn’t heard from his bestfriend in eight weeks it hurt, until it didn’t.

The last four months had been the worst of it. Years of emotion and thoughts he had been suppressing, when he felt anything at all, had come to a head. Not all at once, no things could never be so simple for him. His grades had started slipping around the middle of April. His parents didn’t make a big deal, the sadness had been in him for years before that and they knew it. But to Kyle, it was like losing everything. It was letting his ticket out slip between his fingers. So he’d started shutting himself up in his room to study, late nights full of energy drinks and some other things he’d gotten from a certain in-the-know friend.  
He was irritable and stretched thin and lashed out at everyone for the slightest, most miniscule things. His parents may have given him the benefit of the doubt but his friends couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He didn’t blame them, he couldn’t stand to be around himself either. It stung more than he’d let on but during school he could busy himself with work, let that stinging feeling harden into resentment. It was only when the summer started and Kyle had nothing left to distract him that the loneliness truly sunk in.

Maybe that’s why he was doing this. Maybe all of these petty things built up for years for this. All of his hard work and relationships, forged strong since childhood, had slipped away overnight, why couldn’t he?

Kyle was on his bedroom floor, hands pressed against his throat that just couldn’t seem to open up enough to let any air in. He had fallen to the place he lay now and couldn’t pick himself back up. He wanted to thrash against the scratchy carpet but his legs were weak and quickly becoming numb. His face was turning blue and he could feel tepid sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Saliva had built up and frothed between his teeth as he tried to gulp down air, and it came out in globs as he choked. He was digging his nails into his throat now, trying to tear at the skin to let oxygen in but he was quickly losing strength.

There was no beautiful or poetic way to say it. Kyle was dying. He’d read the prose of a hundred poets, heard the flowery exposition in a thousand movies. But that was fiction, and this was very _very_ real. One last twitch of his leg, his last attempt to get up and beg for help, sent a bottle formerly filled with Klonopin rolling across the room.

He didn’t want to die anymore. Oh _God_ , he didn’t want to die.  
\------

In a small and cramped hospital room, a teenage boy with unruly red hair lays awake in bed staring with unfocused eyes out of the window next to him. It was a comfortably cool day in August, and the rain outside was a calming and familiar sound that the boy held onto in this strange situation. As he strained his eyes to see the droplets gliding gently down the glass pane, he began to make out a few words from the conversation he could hear through the thin curtain at the foot of his bed.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.” A shrill and nasaly voice he recognized as his mother’s said.

“I hope, but probably not.” Said another, deeper voice that sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it before.

“Friendship like that doesn’t just go away. Don’t worry. ” His mother chimed.

Kyle's eyes drifted toward the voices, though half-lidded and foggy they still caught the attention of a black haired boy only one year his senior. He was leaning against a wall away from the source of Mrs.Broflovski’s voice, glancing up to take a break from studying the tile on the floor when he saw Kyle's eyes move. Instantly he perked up, shushing Mrs.Broflovski and telling her that he was awake. Kyle’s stomach was dropping as he slowly began to recognize the voice, it couldn’t be. Could it?

The dark haired boy was coming over with Kyle’s mother now, her hand was on his back and Kyle was hoping against hope that he was wrong about who it might be.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Bubbie. You have a special visitor.” His mother’s voice was excitable and he didn’t need to see her face clearly to know that she was smiling. She spoke as though Kyle was a child being surprised by his friends at a birthday party and not like he was in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt. Kyle turned away before he could make out the face of the person with his mother. Maybe if he just didn’t look the boy would go away and he would never have to face him.

“Can I have my glasses, Mom?” Kyle was pulling his reluctant body into a sitting position. His body smarted under the exertion but he didn’t let it show.

He’d been in the hospital for days, he couldn’t remember exactly how many. All he knew was that it was long enough that he’d been allowed to use the bathroom by himself yesterday. When he first woke up he was terrified, he couldn’t see properly. Everything had been a bright blur and he’d thought for a moment that he was in heaven before he cried out about how that couldn’t be. He’d screamed into his mother’s arms about how he deserved to be in hell instead. He’d eventually fallen asleep and when he woke up a second time his vision was better, but not like it was before and his glasses didn’t help.

Kyle had been prodded and examined and cross-examined and told that he should be fine, then told that he needed to stay longer for psychological evaluations. His parents had been treating him like a little kid, being more careful with him than with his younger brother. Kyle hadn’t seen Ike since he woke up, he assumed that his mother didn’t want to scar the poor boy if Kyle had another outburst like on his first day. Kyle was secretly glad, he didn’t know what lie his parents had fed him and wasn’t confident in his ability to keep it up. He’d have to soon though, he was supposed to be getting released within the next week.

He was putting his glasses on now, brushing frizzy hair away from his eyes and he forced himself to turn to the boy standing next to his hospital bed. Everything in him went cold and a weight pressed hard against his chest. It was his bestfriend. _Former bestfriend_ , Kyle reminded himself. The same former bestfriend that didn’t speak to him for two months before his attempt. The same former bestfriend that chose to turn a blind eye to Kyle’s spiral, leaving him frozen and alone on his bedroom floor in the Colorado summer heat.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Kyle asked his mother, meaning for his voice to come out stoic and angry but it was sad and broken instead.

“ _He_ is here to support you,” Mrs.Broflovski was giving Kyle a disapproving look as she spoke, “Don’t listen to him, Stan, honey. He’s just in a...sensitive place right now.”

“Mom, we’re not even friends anymore.” Kyle was staring into his lap, covered by a thin hospital blanket trying to rid himself of the ache he felt in the back of his throat. His mother put her hand on his back and grabbed his hands that had begun to wring themselves.

“I know that things weren’t the best between you two when…” She paused and her eyes went dark for just a moment before she looked back up, giving Kyle’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “But you need all the support you can get. Please know that I only want what’s best for you, and-” Her voice hitched and Kyle found himself wrapped up in a hug. He leaned into it and lifted heavy arms to return the gesture. She held him for a time long enough that it must’ve made Stan uncomfortable and though he didn’t want to, Kyle worried about what his former friend was feeling.

“Okay, I’m alright. We’ll talk.” Kyle was saying as he pulled away from his sniffling mother. The sight of her in such a distraught state tugged painfully on his heartstrings. She gathered herself and said goodbye to the boys, telling them to play nice in a failed attempt to bring a sense of normalcy to the situation they found themselves in.

Stan sat in the stiff faux leather chair next to Kyle’s bed. A thick and tangible silence sat between the two boys for a long time before Stan spoke.  
“So,” His leg was shaking, “Are the doctors nice?”

“Nice enough.” Kyle’s tone was flat now and he was glad. He didn’t want Stan to know how deep it had cut him when he left.

“Yeah, well I guess that comes with the territory.” He said. “Probably trying to be careful with you, considering…” He left the rest of the sentence unsaid. Kyle felt a flash of rage.

“Considering I tried to kill myself. God, why can no one just fucking say it.” He was clenching the thin blanket in his hands now. “It’s not like it’s some big secret, _everyone_ knows what happened.” Another pause was welling up in the room and Stan shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  
“Well,” He started tentatively, “Can you really blame them? It’s all kind of hard for us.”

“Hard for _you_?” Kyle’s words were threaded with obvious malice now. “How could any of this,” He swung an arm around the hospital room, “Possibly be hard for _you_?”

“I’m your friend, Kyle, I-”

“My friend?” Kyle let out a choked laugh at this. “You don’t know me.” His resolve was faltering and he could hear the sadness tearing at his voice but didn’t care, “I mean, why are you even here? I didn’t need you when I was dying and I don’t need you now.” Hot tears were streaming down his face and he couldn’t tell if they were from his built up loneliness or the resentment.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t exactly my idea to stop by.” Stan defended.

“Oh!” Kyle’s voice was like a crazed howl now, “That makes it so much better! Thank you so much for stopping by to give pity to your local fucking victim!” His words were strained by the sobs he was forcing down.

“Hey, it’s not like you weren’t at fault.” Stan was angry now too, seemingly past the point of being careful. “You didn’t reach out either, or did you forget that?”  
Kyle couldn’t hold his feelings back anymore and in a sob that sounded more like a cry of pain he yelled at Stan. “I was dying!” He was getting out of bed now, weak and sore limbs be damned. He was going to let Stan know exactly how he felt. “You fucking asshole, I was dying and you’re blaming me for it?” He was pulling Stan out of his chair now.

“Get out of my room!” Kyle shoved Stan as hard as he could, though it wasn’t very hard at all. Tears blurred his vision and fogged his glasses and he felt faint but he didn’t want to stop. “Just leave, I don’t want you here.” The anger in his voice was still there but had weakened as he cried. Stan was backing away, his face twisted up in something that might have been hurt.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, just sit back down.” Concern laced his voice and it was enough to reignite the flame of rage in Kyle. He tried once again to push Stan out of the room but his legs gave out under him and he collapsed into Stan’s chest.

“Go, go. Leave me alone.” Kyle mumbled softly, his head was spinning as he was being led carefully back to his bed. He tried to push away the hands of his former friend but the end result was just his clammy hands swatting childishly at Stan’s. His eyes were bleary and he could feel tears mixed with snot running down his face. His head lolled wearily against his pillow and he felt his blanket being pulled overtop him.

A tissue was wiping the snot and tears from his face and he tried to pull away, but a gentle hand grasped his chin to hold him in place.

“Just let me do this, then I’ll go.” Stan’s voice was gentle, as though he were talking to an injured animal that might spook and run from him. “Let me do this and you’ll never have to see me again.” Kyle was nodding as he drifted out of consciousness, his last thought before he fell asleep was a vague and muddled one wondering whether or not his glasses were still on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't end this chapter exactly where I wanted and it s h o w s. If I kept going it would be like 6,000 words though. Also I'm trying to get better at formatting my paragraphs so it's easier to read. Enjoy! <3

Stan had stayed true to his promise from a week ago. He hadn’t come back to see Kyle. He was relieved by this of course, but couldn’t help wishing their interaction ended differently. In the days following Stan’s visit, Kyle had often found himself hoping that his old friend would walk through the door and surprise him again. Then, he had to very quickly remind himself that that was exactly what he didn’t want.  _ It’s for the best _ , he’d tell himself,  _ who needs him?  _ He’d repeated this in his mind like a mantra, trying to believe it.

Kyle was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, a long and white framed thing that had the same sense of sterility as the rest of the bathroom. It was a strange and uncanny feeling that pricked at the hair on the nape of Kyle’s neck, to have such a private place be so impersonal. His hands were on the dark granite counter that the sink sat in as he leaned into his reflection to study it. He’d been rapidly losing weight in the months before his attempt, the clothes his parents brought him hung loosely from his boney frame. 

Now he looked half dead, his face sallow and eyes sunken in under his glasses. A few of the doctors that examined him recommended he get treatment for his eating disorder. Initially they told his parents that he needed to be involuntarily hospitalized but his father put his foot down at that. Kyle guessed that his family missed him. He couldn’t understand why though. How could they after-

He leaned down and splashed water into his face, the cold pushing the thoughts out of his head. His parents had been talking nonstop to the hospital staff about setting up a plan of after care for him. He’d have to go to a psychiatrist soon after he was released, and he remembered being told about the plan to keep him on track and to prevent him from attempting again but he couldn’t recall what was said. Everytime he thought about what he had done and how terribly real it was, his mind fogged over. 

Someone was knocking on the door. Kyle used the sleeves of his baggy sweater to wipe the water from his face as he crossed the bathroom. His mother was on the other side of the now open door, smiling carefully at him. It was time to go home. 

The already long drive home was made longer by the uncomfortable silence in the family car. Kyle had asked where Ike was when they first got in. His mother told him that Ike and his father were putting together a surprise at home. Kyle became quiet after that, staring vacantly out of the window. He didn’t need a surprise, didn’t  _ deserve _ it. 

His mother pulled slowly into the driveway of their home, the car bouncing a little when it rode over the gap between the pavement and the concrete. Kyle scanned the house as they walked inside, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by clutter. He spied familiar pictures of their family hanging on the wall in the space between the front door and the staircase that he couldn’t bear to look at yet. Their family room was clean as usual but a comfortable amount of functional litter was scattered about.

“Bubbie!” Ike ran out of the kitchen, throwing clumsy arms around Kyle. In his little hand he was holding helium filled balloons, they bobbed and hit the back of Kyle’s head now. Tears threatened to form in Kyle’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around his brother.

“Hey, little dude,” He was crouching now, holding Ike at arms length and taking in his round face. His dark hair was messy and longer than Kyle remembered it, hazel eyes teeming with joy. _ What if it had worked? _ Kyle found himself wondering,  _ What if I never got to see this little face again? _

He pushed Ike’s hair away from his forehead, “Did you miss me, buddy?” Ike was nodding and pushing the plastic ribbons of the balloons into Kyle’s hand. Kyle didn't say too much, pretending that maybe he was returning from a trip. He felt that if he didn’t say what it really was, it would fade away. Yes, it would go away and he wouldn’t ever have to think about it again. No one would.

“Alright, Ike.” Mr. Broflovski had joined them in the living room now. He hadn’t been visiting the hospital as much the past couple of days. Kyle assumed it was to take care of Ike, though it was probably more likely that he was just working. His father looked better than the last time he saw him. Dark circles had lessened and he wore a genuine smile as he looked at Kyle. 

“Do you want to show Kyle your big surprise?” Mr. Broflovski asked his youngest, a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Again Ike nodded, tugging Kyle’s hand and leading him to the kitchen.

The kitchen was decorated in the exact way you’d assume a ten year old would decorate it. Balloons were tied seemingly randomly on the backs of chairs, and Kyle spotted one with a hideous knot on the handle of the fridge. Letter shaped balloons that weren’t inflated were pinned to the back wall, spelling out Kyle’s name. Hanging vertically underneath were paper streamers, thumbtacked and bunched up. On the table was a colorful plastic cover, one that Kyle recognized from a long forgotten birthday party. In the center sat a store bought cake but from the batter covered dishes in the sink Kyle could see that there had first been an attempt to make one. Kyle’s grip on the plastic balloon strings loosened and they floated away as the strength to hold back his tears wavered. How had he almost thrown all of this away?

His father's arms were around him now and tears inched slowly down his face. He was being hugged so much lately.

“It’s good to have you back home, son.”

\-------

Ike’s welcome home party went well. The awkward air fading quickly as the family eased themselves back into their usual dynamic, though Kyle’s parents were still doting on him. He ignored it for the sake of his little brother, laughing heartily at Ike as he jumped around the kitchen having very clearly eaten too much sugar. Despite trying to let his parents worried glances roll off of his back, Kyle soon found himself exhausted by the effort. An hour after arriving home he’d excused himself to go up to his room. His parents didn’t protest, reassuring him that Ike needed time to calm down anyways.

Kyle’s bedroom was the only part of the house that didn’t look similar to the way it was when he was last here. It had been cleaned. Fresh sheets were on his perfectly made bed, clutter on his desk had been cleared and organized with stationary he once purchased and never got the chance to use. His curtains were drawn, letting sunlight fill the room. There were no more dirty clothes on the newly vacuumed carpet. Kyle found himself wandering over to his dresser, knickknacks and childhood toys positioned purposefully on the worn white wood. On the far corner of the dresser sat a framed picture of younger versions of Stan and Kyle.

He remembered the day it was taken in spite of himself. Stan had come with the Broflovski’s on a camping trip. His parents were busied with Ike then too, but Kyle was too young to mind. Besides, how could he be jealous when he and his bestfriend were busy hunting frogs and toads in the tall grass next to the tent. In the picture, Stan was holding up a prize they’d found while herping. A fat toad with bulging black eyes, shining in the flash of the camera. A grin was on his face and Kyle wore an expression of pride as he pointed with both hands at the treasure his friend was holding. They were so small back then, so happy.

Kyle turned his eyes away from the photo, laying it face down on the dresser. The way he remembered leaving it for weeks before he went to the hospital. He looked around the room again, slowly. He was trying not to focus on the floor but when he saw the deep blue carpet all he could think of was how it scratched against his back as he suffocated. He couldn’t be in this house for a second longer, he decided. Worn out blue Chuck Taylor’s he’d yet to grow out of moved frantically down the stairs. He wanted to go somewhere,  _ anywhere _ else. He’d wanted the first floor to be empty but his mother was sitting on the couch, eyes turned toward the tv but she was so still it didn’t seem that she was really watching it. She jumped when Kyle’s light feet fell heavily against the floor in his rush to escape.

“Oh, honey. You scared the hell out of me.” Her hand was on her chest as she looked at Kyle, momentarily slipping back into her normal tone of voice. It was gone when she spoke again, replaced by the softness everyone seemed to be regarding Kyle with lately. “What are you doing?” Kyle was shrugging, shrinking back into himself when he heard his mother's concern. 

“I kind of wanted to go out for a walk,” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and felt his shoulders rising against his will. His mother hesitated and her face contorted as though she were internally arguing with herself.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that? To be out there, alone, I mean.” She asked.

“Yeah, totally. I haven’t really had any fresh air since I left, you know?” Kyle didn’t know why but he felt like he was lying. His eyes were flitting around his mother's face without looking directly into it. 

“Well,” She paused again and looked away before she continued. A smile forced onto her face, “Just be careful.” Kyle was nodding as he slunk out of the front door, feeling like he was doing something wrong. Anxiety was gripping his lungs and he almost wanted to go back upstairs to take some of his Klonopin, until he remembered. 

He wished he could say that the colors of the town were brighter. That a near death experience had set alight in him a realization of how fragile life really was. It would be a lie, though. In fact, despite the sun beaming down the town was cast in a chilly and drab shadow. Kyle didn’t realize how ugly the town was before. Dead grass and cracked roads on either side of the sunbleached sidewalk he travelled. Kyle didn’t know where his feet were taking him but he was grateful they could move at all.

Before long he’d ended up passing by the park. Yells of delighted children were filling the afternoon air. He guessed it was the weekend but he couldn’t be sure. Everyday was the same in the hospital, and the staff had control over what happened anyways so he didn’t need to keep track of anything. In the excited voices of playing children, Kyle thought he could hear someone calling his name. He looked up to scan the park for a familiar face. It wasn’t a trick of his ears, coming toward him was a towheaded boy, arm raised above his head in a wave.

Kyle’s feet were moving before he could even think and really decide to go over to the boy. His shoes kicked up dirt as he dragged himself over, suddenly regretting his decision to leave the house as Kenny pulled him into a side hug. His skin was warm under the muscle shirt he wore, despite the chill.

“Dude, how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever.” Kenny beamed, exposing his crooked teeth. Kyle felt a small hint of anger toward him.

“I can say the same about you.” His tone was stoic.

“Oh yeah, I took Karen up to Denver for the summer. I would have invited you but I was tight on cash, you know?” He seemed oblivious to Kyle’s anger. “Where have you been by the way? I was texting you like the whole time. I went by your house when I got back but no one was ever really home.” The anger in Kyle swiftly transformed into confusion.

“Denver? I thought you and Stan were hanging out all summer.” He didn’t want to care about what Stan had been doing or who he was with that summer, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, no way.” Kenny ran a hand through his straw colored hair. “Stan and I aren’t exactly friends anymore.” 

“That makes two of us.” Kyle mumbled. He’d wanted to ask more about him stopping by his house but lost his nerve by the time Kenny spoke again.

“Hey, you wanna go over to Tweak Bros.?” He asked, thumbs in the front pockets of his cargo shorts. “I’ve got Tucker’s kid sister hanging out with Karen, and should probably be bringing her back now anyways.” They were walking over to the swings now, Kyle’s feet following Kenny without any input from Kyle himself.

“Oh, does Craig work there now?” He found himself asking, glad that Kenny was changing the subject. Kyle stood off to the side as Kenny told the pair of pre-teens that it was time to leave.

“Nah,” He was slinging a backpack that looked to be Karen’s over his shoulder, an action that only served to skew Kyle’s sense of time even more. “He just likes to hang out there when Tweek’s on duty.”

Tricia Tucker was skipping ahead of the three of them, red hair blowing messily in the wind behind her. “Yeah! He’s always up there  _ flirting. _ ” Her face scrunched up in playful disgust that made Karen giggle. Kyle smiled at the thought of Tweek and Craig hanging out and wondered for a moment what it would be like to have someone so close in his life. He looked over at Kenny who was imitating kissing noises to make Karen and Tricia laugh. 

  
Everything seemed so normal. Things had changed but not all of them were for the worst. Kenny was still himself, though older and more talkative, caring for his little sister more than anything else. Craig and Tweek had stayed together, Tricia and Karen had stayed friends. As they left the park, Kyle felt it was all so bittersweet and wondered why it seemed only  _ he _ had changed into something bad. What was so wrong with him that he’d turned out this way?  _ Was  _ there anything wrong with him, or had he done this all to himself?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! All emotion. Though maybe I should save that note for the next chapter because >.> it starts off whew. I cannot stop writing this,, I love it. Also I'm still testing out different formats, pls be patient with me ;-; 
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> ps. I made a playlist of music my version of kyle would like/relate to if you wanna listen?
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4UrHEs9jlCKDDQiMks8jCb?si=AivK3XrOTt-b30ksHf3-4w

Tweak Bros. Coffeehouse had to be the most unfamiliar place in South Park to Kyle. It was a small and industrial looking building with exposed brick and light wooden floors. Dark metals made up the counter and lights that hung low overhead. It didn’t seem like something that quite fit into their podunk small town. He could imagine it in a cozy corner somewhere on the west coast, kids that were more mature and well groomed him sipping fancier coffees than were served here. Kyle had never been much of a coffee drinker, opting for tea or energy drinks if he really needed to get something done. He had to admit that the smell of all the different roasts floating around him was nice, though. 

He and Kenny were seated next to the large window that looked out onto the street, at the table closest to the counter. The table and stools they were in were tall and dwarfed Kyle in a way he wasn’t used to since childhood, having shot up to a looming 5’7 over the summer between middle and highschool. On the stained wood table before him sat a slowly cooling mug of hot chocolate, steam rising and clouding his glasses. He was cupping it lightly, trying to warm himself. He wondered how Kenny was wearing only a muscle shirt and cargo shorts, Kyle was almost freezing in his sweater. 

_ Probably because you don’t have any body fat left to warm you.  _ He thought, and looked at his bony, fragile hands. They wrapped around his mug, pale and dry. They were once elegant looking, and served him well when playing piano in band. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d played piano but he knew that he and Tweek had practiced together once or twice the year before. What was that song they’d played? It escaped him, but he was sure there was a fast part that Tweek stumbled over toward the end.

“Are you there, dude?” Kenny waved a hand over Kyle’s hot chocolate, pulling him slowly back into the present.

“Hm?”

“I was asking if you wanted anything to eat.”

“Oh,” Kyle was back completely now, “No, I didn’t bring my wallet.” He didn’t even know if it had money in it, or where it was for that matter.

“No shit, I bought your drink. I’ll get this too.” Kenny chewed on his straw, blue eyes peering at Kyle in a way that made him feel transparent. “So what do you want?” Kyle’s stomach was turning as he considered the options. What did they even serve here? Pastries right?

“Just a slice of cheesecake I guess, strawberry.” His left hand was tapping the ceramic of his mug while his right was under the table, picking at a small hole in his jeans. 

Kenny’s eyes lingered for a moment before he turned to get up, “I’ll make that two, just in case.” 

Kyle wanted to argue but Kenny was already striding over to order before he could open his mouth. He watched as Kenny leaned against the counter, a casual stance that he seemed to have done a thousand times before. Though Kyle knew that it could be Kenny’s first time in the shop and he’d behave the same. He had a way of making any and every place he walked into his home while he was there. A sort of confidence that made everyone feel at ease lived inside of him. 

Kenny was laughing with Tweek now. Tweek had grown a little since Kyle last saw him, a little more meat on his bones and though his fingers moved on the counter he seemed less jumpy. Kyle might have recognized the pattern that Tweek’s fingers moved in as the piece of music they practiced together if he wasn’t busy taking Kenny in. 

Sunlight shone in through the window, the late afternoon rays dancing in Kenny’s hair as he moved. He’d always talked with his body, and now as his the muscles of his arm flexed with the movement of his hand Kyle couldn’t look away. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but just toned enough to keep the attention of Kyle. He watched as the fabric of Kenny’s shirt swayed away from his body and teased the reveal of what was underneath. 

Tweek must have seen him in the corner of his eye because he was suddenly looking over, waving meekly. Kyle realised he was staring and turned quickly back to his hot chocolate, busying himself by taking a sip. It was too hot and burned the inside of his mouth, and he struggled not to cry out. He bit the singed tip of his tongue, feeling irritated taste buds scraping against his teeth. His leg shook and he felt that tightness in his chest return.  _ Why _ had he been staring at his friend like that? Were they even friends still? They hadn’t talked in months.

Kenny was back at the table now, setting a square plate with Kyle’s cheesecake in front of him before sitting down. Kyle thanked him and looked over to see what Kenny had gotten himself, only to find his half filled iced coffee was all that was on his side of the table. He was chewing on his straw again, expectant eyes cast toward Kyle.

“Oh, are they making something fresh for you?” Kyle asked, cutting a small piece of cheesecake away from one of the slices with his spoon.

“I’m not hungry.” Kenny responded, the bluntness startling Kyle. He took a long sip of his drink, and Kyle watched as the coffee seeped down through the layers of ice and contrasted it with how it rose up the straw. His gaze followed the path, eyes flitting to Kenny’s lips before he could stop himself. Pink and pursed around the straw. He was digging his spoon back into his cheesecake now, staring at the red swirls in it as though they were the most fascinating things in the world.

“Tweek and Craig invited us over to hang out,” Kenny was saying, relaxing in his seat, an arm draped across the back. 

“What?” Kyle felt his face heating up. Had that been what Kenny was doing at the counter, making plans for him? 

“Me and Karen,” Kenny brought his drink back to his mouth and Kyle’s eyes followed, watching as his lips parted so he could take a sip. He forced himself to look down again but before he did he thought he caught a glimpse of a smile. “They wanted to know if you’d want to come along, do you want to?”

“I don’t know, Ken…” Kyle was still cutting his cheesecake into small pieces, the tightness in his chest too much for him to try and eat.

“C’mon, man. We haven’t hung out in what? Three months?” Kenny leaned forward on the table and Kyle noticed the way his shirt hung away from his chest, the afternoon light catching his collarbones for a moment. “That reminds me, you didn’t answer when I asked why you never texted me back.”

Kyle’s stomach sank, giving him even less incentive to eat now. He knew exactly why he hadn’t returned Kenny’s texts. He thought back to the lonely summer before. 

It was after a particularly long three days of doing nothing but sleeping, scrolling, and sleeping some more. He’d been dragging himself back into his room after a much needed shower and as he sat half dressed on his bed the overwhelming desire to be around someone had settled into him. He was  _ tired _ of the new routine his summer had brought. It was meaningless floating and exhausting conversations with his parents everyday except Wednesday’s. Kyle  _ hated _ Wednesday’s. 

That was when he was driven to his therapist. A kind looking man that had insisted Kyle call him Theodore, so much so that Kyle had forgotten the man’s last name. He had dark hair that greyed slightly around the edges of his clean cut. He always had on a patient smile, always wore a pair of jeans and cream colored button up under a dark blazer. He was so welcoming, overbearing almost. His kind demeanor had put Kyle off for some reason, it just made Theodore so aloof that Kyle could never tell what he was supposed to say. So every Wednesday went the same. Kyle went into his therapist’s office, sitting on a couch that was so soft that it nearly swallowed him whole, and Theodore sat with his hands folded atop his oak desk with a patient indifference. Near complete silence for an hour. Every. Single. Wednesday.

Kyle had been longing for interaction outside of his family that wasn’t a creepy older man he couldn’t read. He’d grabbed his phone and was reading through old texts from Stan, it was one of those days when Kyle missed his friend more than he’d like to, when a new one came in. Three simple words. They probably took less than a second to type and send out but they stopped Kyle’s heart when he read them. 

**_Wanna hang out?_ **

He’d stared at the text for so long, reading the words over and over again. His hands shook and he was wracking his brain for the right thing to say in response; for the right thing to feel. Here was his friend, after a month and half of nothing, texting him with an offer to hang out. He wanted to be pissed, to shoot back a quick ‘fuck yourself’ but his heart was softened by the old conversations he was just reading. Then another text came in.

**_Ken?_ **

All of the lightness that had made its way into Kyle shattered and slipped back out just as quickly. He felt a cold rage brewing inside of himself and he’d blocked both of his old friends. To Kyle, if Kenny had time to spend with Stan he had time to spend with him. An internal battle had ensued, about whether Kyle even deserved for either of them to want to reach out. Had he not been the one who pushed them away? Who locked himself away in his room? The last time he’d even spoken to Kenny was a month before for Adderall, and though Kenny had texted more after that Kyle didn’t respond. Yes, it was right to block them. To make sure that Kyle didn’t hurt them, didn’t give in and ask for friendship he could never really return.

Kyle felt Kenny’s gaze on him now and looked up to meet his eyes. 

“I blocked you.” His voice was hoarse, his mouth suddenly dry. He had been disturbed by the memory.

“What? Oh, dude, why?” Kenny was pulling back away, arms off of the table again. He looked out of the window next to them with furrowed brows as he thought about something.

“Well, I-” 

“No, it’s cool.” Kenny turned back, his voice wasn’t cold despite Kyle expecting it to be. “I think I deserved that, I mean I hadn’t exactly been trying hard to reach you. Even before I went up to Denver.” He shrugged, stirring the ice in his drink around for a moment before looking up at Kyle again. A small smile on his face. “If you’re not gonna eat that, hand it over. The guys are kind of waiting on us so they can close shop.” 

Kyle slid the plate of mutilated cheesecake across the table, unsure of how to feel. He’d expected Kenny to be hurt or angry with him, but he didn’t seem to be. Kenny hopped down from the tall stool and left Kyle alone to stew in his thoughts. He was trying to put together the timeline in his head, to understand, but it was all so fuzzy. The months had bled together in a big blur and he couldn’t differentiate the weeks let alone the days. Kenny had been in Denver when Stan texted him, right?

“Hey, they’ll be ready to go soon if you wanna come.” Kenny was back at the table, thumbs hooked around his belt loops. Kyle looked outside, the day had gotten darker.

“I should really be going home.” He was getting out of his seat, “My parents have been really overprotective since I-” He stopped himself.

“Since you?” Kenny arched a brow quizzically.

“Since I left, you know. Been gone for a few weeks.” Kyle backed slowly away, his feet once again moving on pure instinct.

“You never did tell me where you went,” Kenny moved with him, stepping forward with each step Kyle took back. “I know something is up, the guys said something about you being at Hell’s Pass.” Kenny’s eyes were set narrow and hard on Kyle’s.

Kyle’s face flushed. Did everyone in town know? Did anyone outside of his family know  _ why _ he was admitted? They couldn’t, or Kenny would have asked directly. Right? Kyle was humiliated and turned on his heel to leave.

“Thanks, but I’ve gotta go.” His hands shook as he frantically pulled the door, then pushed it to open it properly. His feet moved quickly out of the store, speed walking away before Kenny could get the chance to respond. He raked a hand through his hair as he hurried down the sidewalk, knocking his glasses askew as he did. His right hand had been clutching his sweater but now it moved to his throat. He was gasping, too short breaths coming in too quickly and he remembered that he was supposed to try and control it when that was happening but couldn’t remember  _ how. _

He knew this feeling well. He was having an anxiety attack. 

And he couldn’t _fucking_ _breathe_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmm, K2 anybody? Also I've been picturing Kyle as a red head, lanky male version of Chloe Moriondo with those big circle glasses but when I was drawing him last night I realized he just looks like Kyle 2. Absolutely horrific, can't believe I've done this. 
> 
> Also if you can guess the christmas movie I mentioned,, um you win the award of me being your husband.

“In. One, two, three, four.”

“Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven”

“Out. One, two, thee, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

Kyle was on the living room floor with his mother. She was cradling him, pushing back his hair as she guided him through breathing exercises. She didn’t ask what happened. She just saw that familiar panicked look in her little boy's face and embraced him, sunk slowly to the ground with him as he struggled to speak. He’d been apologizing, his voice shaking and frantic but now he was just breathing.  _ That’s all you have to do right now _ , she’d told him.  _ Just breathe _ .

“I-I think I’m okay now,” Kyle hiccuped, pushing himself away from his mother and wiping tears on his baggy sleeve. His head was pounding and the snot building up in his sinuses made him feel dizzy. He half expected his mother to ask him if he was sure, almost wanted her too. Instead she handed him his glasses and helped him slowly to his feet.

“Why don’t you sit down and find a movie you like? I’ll go make some tea.” 

“Can I have some ibuprofen too, please?” Kyle sniffled.

“Of course, honey.”

The movies on Netflix were plentiful, but all seemed entirely too boring to bother watching. Fear flickered through Kyle when he couldn’t find anything to find anything interesting, momentarily thinking that apathy had overtaken him. He didn’t know if he could handle slipping back into that feeling. His fears were quelled, though, when he felt a sense of lightness and appreciation towards his mother when she returned with his drink and ibuprofen. 

“Have you found anything yet?” Mrs. Broflovski asked as she settled on the couch.

“Um, I think there are too many options for me to decide.” Kyle put the painkillers in his mouth, taking them dry out of habit before he could even think to drink his tea with them.

“Let’s look through together, come here.” She was patting the cushion next to her and Kyle scooted over. He was tense for a bit as they looked through the movies, but as they talked and made fun of the ones that sounded especially bad he found himself relaxing. He didn’t realize just how much he missed this, and as he leaned against his mother, knees pulled up to his chest and his head on her shoulder, he felt like a child. He felt secure.

They’d eventually settled on a Christmas movie. His mother had cast him a questioning look when he pointed it out but he’d said he liked the way it was animated. 2D and 3D blending together, with a breathtaking color palette. Really though, he’d just wanted to watch a children’s movie. He was clinging desperately to this moment, already feeling it slipping out of his grasp as he lived it. When was the last time he felt this small? And would there be a next time?

\------

Kyle woke up gasping and slick with cold sweat. There was something heavy on top of him and kicked it fitfully away. He scrambled to sit up, his hand resting on the base of his throat, fingers pressing into his collarbone. He reached out into the dark for his glasses but his nightstand wasn’t there. He felt around, throwing his legs over the side of his bed but his shin connected painfully with something hard and wooden. He cursed and rubbed his leg as he stood up, chest tightening as he did. He didn’t know where he was or if anything was in the darkness around him. 

_ No, wait.  _ He thought, calming himself.  _ Think clearly. _

He stood still, breathing carefully and memory slowly came back to him. He was in his living room. He’d fallen asleep on the couch while watching a movie with his mom. Everything was fine and he was safe.  _ I’m safe. _

Sitting back on the couch, Kyle turned on the lamp that sat on the end table. He cringed away from the light for a moment before looking around with squinted eyes for his glasses. Once they were on and panic had fully subsided, he could think about two things. That he was unbearably thirsty, and he had no idea what time it was.

He stumbled his way into the kitchen, flicking on the light as he entered. He paused when he looked around and saw that Ike’s decorations were still hanging up from his welcome home party the day before, balloons bobbing in the draft of the air conditioning. Kyle shivered as he walked under the vent on his way to the cabinets to grab a cup. He filled the largest one he could find with water and drank it all in one go. Then he drank another. 

He felt silly, standing in his kitchen at night with water dripping down his mouth and panting from drinking it all so fast. Remembering that he wanted to know the time, he turned to the stove and tried to read the glowing green numbers but his breath had fogged his glasses. He cleaned them and tried again. It read 5:42. The sun would be rising soon. When was the last time Kyle had woken before the sun? He felt himself breaking into a smile. He’d always loved the mornings. He loved how quiet everything was before the sun rose, loved how little distraction there was when the rest of the world slept. It made him feel like the last person on earth, in the most comforting way possible.

Kyle raised his arms above his head, standing on his tiptoes as he pulled himself up into a long stretch. He decided that he wanted to take a shower.

The water was warm against his cold skin and he relaxed into it, feeling better than he had in weeks. Months, really, but he didn’t want to think that far back. He’d showered every other day at the hospital. The shower there was really just a corner of the bathroom that had been sectioned off by a rather pointless curtain considering there was no raised lip to keep the water from going to the rest of the room. There had been handrails lining the walls that made up the strange corner shower, and a drain embedded in the tile under his feet. He was glad to be showering at home again. To be able to use his own personal shampoo and bodywash instead of the generic toiletries he’d been provided. 

He stepped into his bedroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. His feet hit the carpet but it didn’t make him think of suffocating. It was just carpet today. He dried off and dressed himself, then made his way to his mirror. He watched as his reflection put on it’s glasses with him, round and dark rimmed. He remembered liking them a lot when he first picked them out, but now they were just mundane. His face was red from the shower under them, and damp curls that had gotten too long brushed against the top of the frame. He looked better than the day before, still gaunt but much more alive. Much happier. 

The sun was rising as Kyle searched for his phone. The morning’s first rays drifted lazily into his bedroom. He stalled his search for a moment to look out of his window, watching as the sky flourished into a soft pink behind the blue mountains in the distance. He felt as though the sun was breathing life into him as it woke the world. Saying _ , let go - let go. You’re ready _ .

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his phone laying on his desk. He rolled his desk chair over to his window and unlocked his phone for the first time in almost a month. His wallpaper was one of the default moving galaxies, he’d changed it to that almost as soon as summer started. Before it had been a candid picture of him, Kenny and Stan sitting on a bench outside of the highschool. Cartman had taken the photo of them for a reason that escaped Kyle now, but he remembered liking the way they were all laughing and leaning into each other. He’d wanted to go through his phone to find the photo, maybe crop it to just be him and Kenny but decided against it. Besides, he’d seen it enough to know that to crop Stan out would mean cropping out half of his own face.

Instead he went to his contacts and made his way to the numbers he’d blocked and unblocked Kenny. His eyes lingered on the number underneath Kenny’s. His eyebrows knitted together, warm sunlight on his face as he wondered whether or not he should unblock Stan. On one hand, he’d come to the hospital when Kyle was admitted. On the other, it was a week late and he said it wasn’t his choice. And Kyle couldn’t let slip the fact that Stan hadn’t tried to reach out once in four months. Does one hospital visit  _ really _ outweigh that? 

He remembered the time that Stan did text him, a text meant for Kenny despite the fact that he was Denver. Kyle chewed his lip before curiosity won him over and he unblocked Stan. After all, Stan hadn’t shown up since he promised he’d stay away a few weeks ago. He’d probably never even text Kyle. 

Kyle’s phone buzzed, a new message from Kenny came in. He opened it and expected a flood of missed texts but he remembered reading somewhere that phone companies usually only hold unsent messages for a month or so. The new text was time stamped from the night before, about three hours after Kyle had gotten home. 

**_Dont know if you’ll get this but here’s hoping you unblock me. Hmu if you wanna hang out again tomorrow_ **

He smiled a bit at Kenny’s text, feeling a little guilty for leaving so quickly the day before but he didn’t want to be confronted with what had happened. He didn’t exactly want to have an anxiety attack in front of Kenny either. He’d been told by Theodore and his parents a hundred times that it was nothing to be embarrassed about, but he  _ was _ embarrassed. It felt like being betrayed by his own body, to show such immense vulnerability without his consent. He read through a few more of Kenny’s texts that had been saved over the past month, a wall of  **_where are you?_ ** and  **_i’m worried_ ** , before replying to the newest one and heading downstairs.

Kyle ate breakfast outside for the first time in longer than he could remember. The sun had finished rising when he made his way out onto the patio but it was still cool enough that his tea made him shiver from how warm it was. He ate slowly, savoring every bite of the cheap cereal he’d made for himself. He knew that he was just riding the high that comes after a breakdown and that the rut always comes after would catch up to him eventually. Deeper and darker than ever. He was trying not to think about it, though. Maybe things could be different this time and he could stay in this light feeling for the rest of his life. What was stopping him?

\------

“And you’re  _ sure _ I didn’t do anything wrong yesterday?” Kenny asked, sitting in Kyle’s desk chair, still positioned next to the window from that morning. Kyle had invited him over after lunch, wanting to wait to make sure that he was actually awake. He groaned playfully from where he sat on the bed and responded.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times and you haven’t even been here an hour, yes!” Kyle had mock frustration in his voice, honestly rather touched by the fact that Kenny seemed to be worried. 

“Alright, alright.” Kenny held his hands up in surrender, turning himself from side to side in the chair. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You don’t have any other choice.” Kyle teased.

“I guess I don’t, do I?” Kenny was rolling the chair closer to the end of the bed where Kyle sat, grinning as he did. A canine tooth that stuck out further than the others caught Kyle’s eye and he let himself stare for a moment, when he finally looked back up he saw that Kenny was watching him. “I lost you for a second there.” 

Kyle apologized but didn’t look away, keeping his eyes locked on his friend’s. Their knees were brushing together now, Kenny still inching the chair closer. Kyle’s eyes flitted down when he felt a leg pushing against the inside of his thigh. 

“So,” Kenny pushed the chair back again, their legs still close but not touching anymore. “Do you know when you’re coming back to school? They know they can’t keep you out for much longer without you falling behind, right?” Kyle sat in awe as Kenny returned to swaying back and forth in the chair, arms folded behind his head as though nothing happened. His nonchalance made Kyle question for a moment if anything  _ had _ happened. 

“Should be sometime next week. I have some appointments I need to get through before I can get back into things, you know?” Kyle said vaguely, leaning back on his hand in an effort to try and mirror Kenny’s casual demeanor. 

“Not really.” Kenny stopped moving, only his eyes facing Kyle but it was clear from his tone that he wasn’t smiling anymore. “You haven’t told me anything about what happened.”

Kyle dug his heel into his carpet, eyes avoiding Kenny now. “I’m not exactly ready to talk about it.” 

Kenny paused, thinking this information over before he left his chair and sat close on the bed next to Kyle. He leaned into Kyle’s shoulder,he was wearing another muscle shirt and his skin hot against Kyle’s. Kyle thought back to the picture of them on the bench, how he’d leaned into Stan the same way. His face flushed lightly as he remembered what he’d been feeling then, and why he’d leaned against Stan that way. He wondered if maybe Kenny was feeling that now? A warm emotion budding in his chest towards Kyle.

“I get that.” Kenny draped an arm around Kyle’s shoulders and was pulling him back on the bed until they were both lying down on their backs next to each other, eyes cast toward the ceiling. Kyle expected himself to be tense at Kenny’s touch and was surprised to find that he relaxed quickly against him. He felt Kenny’s hand moving through his hair and he watched the shadows of leaves dancing across his ceiling, trying not to think too much about the meaning behind it. He felt Kenny’s hand on his face now, thumb stroking his cheek and his skin becoming red from blush under his touch. His heart was racing and a shaking found its way into Kyle’s own hands, he clasped them hard against his chest. Reminding himself to breathe, he sat up, leaving Kenny laying on his bed behind him.

“You know,” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, his hand resting on it again, boney fingers pulling nervously at the skin around his adam’s apple. “It’s so nice to have a friend around, Ken.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm,,,, i feel like i got a little bit of writers block halfway through this,,,but i knew for sure i wanted that last scene in this chapter. i just really hate dialogue,,, it sucks!!!

_ Kyle was swaying slowly, his eyes closed and head lolling as his body floated. He was at the bottom of Stark’s pond, feet hovering above the clay that had settled and hardened long ago. The water was bitterly cold and alive all around him, icy currents opening his pores and seeping through his veins - biting down viciously until hitting his bones.  _

_ He was aware of his surroundings and the sharp pain that sent tremors through him, making his eyes shoot open. They burned as the water hit them. It was so dark down under all of that water and he could feel the pressure from thousands of gallons keeping him at the bottom. His limbs were floating freely around him, but he couldn’t make them out in the pitch black.  _

_ He hadn’t realized until now, but it was so quiet down there. He’d assumed when he swam down he’d be able to hear the water moving around him. Had he swam down here? He couldn’t remember anymore. He felt stinging in his ears, water making its way painfully past his eardrums with so much force it made him cry out. No sound came from him, only bubbles that rapidly ascended out of view. The water took his open mouth as an invitation, a confirmation that it could slink down into his lungs. _

_ Kyle’s eyes bulged from their sockets, hands clawing at his throat and legs kicking helplessly. He was floating, had nothing to push off of - nothing to propel him to the surface of the water. His lungs were on fire and even though he desperately wanted to clamp his mouth closed, he could only let out raw, silent screams for help and mercy. He was suffocating, dying. _

__ Kyle woke up with his teeth clenched again today. He’d been home for a little over a week and every morning he was being slowly dragged out of sleep by nightmares, with his teeth pressing hard against each other and his hands gripping his throat. Most mornings his fingernails were digging into his skin and thin crescent shaped cuts lined his neck. Every night he put off sleeping until the last minute, and when he would finally succumb to his exhaustion his last thought was always reassuring himself that he was used to the nightmares. But he wasn’t.

He touched his face now, trying to keep his hands off of his throat and already feeling the stinging of new wounds. Leaning against his headboard in the dark before the sunrise, Kyle wept into his hands. He wanted it to be a tender and soft crying, but it was full of choking and hiccuping and copious amounts of snot. All of it ending with raw stinging eyes and a headache teasing in his sinuses. He wanted to stay in his bed. He wanted the whole world to stop and just let him sit there, damp faced and numb. 

But the sun would rise soon, and Kyle was going back to school today. His mother scheduled an appointment with his new therapist for 10 that morning. She wanted to have his first day at school to be short, a proverbial dip of his toe to test frigid waters of his senior year. Kyle didn’t know how exactly to feel about her plans when she discussed them with him, a part of him was relieved because it would mean less time around his peers. The part of him that lingered from his junior year wanted to get back into doing schoolwork more than anything, to set aside his emotions again and let himself become enraptured by problem solving that had nothing to do with his reality. 

Kyle waited until he felt like he could breathe again before he got out of bed. Though his head was pounding like his brain was trying to force its way out of his skull, he wanted to wait to take ibuprofen. Sometimes a shower was all it took to make his headache dissipate, others he would have to nurse throughout the whole day. He’d developed a strange sort of routine with his headaches and on the days that he woke up without crying he felt strangely bare. It was as though he was hollow without the constant pounding in his head. He found it to be comforting, in a way he considered sick.

After showering and dressing himself in a thin white turtleneck to cover the small marks from his fingernails, he sat next to the window in his room. It was a part of his daily schedule that had started as a pointed effort to watch the sunrise every morning, but had quickly become just another meaningless habit. His phone was hanging loosely in his hand, he’d meant to text Kenny. Instead he was staring with empty eyes in the direction of the mountains, wondering whether or not he was really ready to go back to school. 

He had to, didn’t he? As sure as the sun would rise before his unfocused gaze, he would have to continue living. He couldn’t stay trapped within that day. Within that feeling. He was more than that event, wasn’t he? He was a young man with dreams and passion, and goals - right? Or was he just a dramatic little boy with a victim complex? One of the last things he remembered thinking before he fell unconscious was that he didn’t want to die. How could he really have been the tortured soul he made himself out to be when that was his last thought?

His dulled front teeth were gnawing off a hangnail he’d created, lost inside of his head.  _ It’s almost September now,  _ He told himself,  _ four weeks after it all. Get over it.  _ He wanted to pretend it never happened, but he knew that the thing called sadness living inside of him would never let him forget. He knew that with every touch of his bedroom carpet on his bare skin, the way it felt to die would erupt violently in his memory. 

Kyle’s phone vibrated in his hand and almost fell out of his loose grip. He saw that the sun had risen without him really seeing it, disappointment rose in his chest. He'd missed his chance to watch it that morning. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He knew the text was from Kenny. Even though Tweek made a groupchat with Craig, Kenny and Kyle and himself, Kenny was really the only person that ever texted him. Especially in the mornings before he went to school. He’d send a wall of texts telling Kyle to have a nice day and to message him if he needed anything, with promises that he’d respond as soon as he could. 

Kyle fondly remembered the moment Kenny told him why he sent those morning texts. It was only four days ago. They were laying in Kyle’s bed, something they’d made a habit of doing, when Kenny asked how he felt about going back to school. He’d said he was nervous, but was glad that Kenny would be there with him and even more glad that they had almost identical schedules. He had gone on to ramble, talked about how light it made him feel when Kenny texted him the morning before he went to school. Kenny had looked at him then, with an endearing and vulnerable gaze, and tilted Kyle’s face gently toward his own. He could feel Kenny’s breath on his skin in that moment. It had fogged his glasses when he explained that he knew the days must be long for Kyle, and he wanted to give him something to look at whenever he felt down or lonely.

His phone was still buzzing and he looked down to read what he’d received. The texts that had pulled Kyle out of his mind were around the same as he expected and he found himself smiling. The last one held his eyes for a moment longer than the others though,  **_Can’t wait for things to go back to normal at school!_ ** The words and sentiment were clearly sweet but that phrase had soured it for Kyle.  _ Go back to normal _ . As though his suicide was just another subpar bulletpoint on the long list of things going on this town. Something that had disrupted the flow of life for Kenny - a bump in the road for him. Like it was something to be witnessed, solved, and forgotten about. But it  _ wasn’t _ going to go back to normal for Kyle. He held a small semblance of hope that maybe somewhere in the distant future he would feel okay again, but it wouldn’t be normal. It never could be. 

\----

“Broflovski.” 

Kyle’s head snapped up to see that a dark skinned woman, with her hair pulled into a tidy bun, had called his name from the clipboard she held. He cast a nervous glance at his father who had come to sit with him in the stuffy waiting room outside of the office of his new therapist. His father gave a reassuring smile and ushered him along. Kyle exhaled slowly, carrying himself on heavy and stumbling feet to the doorway where the woman held the door open for him. The walk across the waiting room seemed to take ages, he felt as though he was being watched. Rationally, he knew that the reason everyone was here was because they were like him, struggling with their own problems and too focused on keeping themselves together to even see him. That didn’t stop him from pressing his nails hard into the pad of his thumb though, nor did it stop the sudden constriction in his chest.

Crossing the threshold felt like Kyle had heaved a burdening weight from his shoulders, shedding a thin layer of anxiety as his feet moved from the flat carpet to tile. The woman guided him to a room at the end of the hall, a placid smile on her angular face. He tried to return the smile when she was closing the door behind him, but he was almost certain that it came across as a too wide and nervous stretch of his mouth.

The office he stepped into looked more eclectic than his last therapist’s. Where Theodore’s office was light and home to an overly comfortable sofa, this office had dark painted walls and only a leather chair angled in front of the mahogany desk. Theodore’s office had been devoid of any personality, but this one had bookshelves overflowing equally with books and personal artifacts. Plants littered the dark room, gathered most extremely next to the window - deep red curtains having been drawn to let in the late morning sun. Sitting behind the mahogany desk was a man with thinning blond hair pulled into a loose ponytail that reminded Kyle of pictures of British soldiers he’d seen in history textbooks. The man had fair skin, a small smile and light grey eyes that watched Kyle curiously. He assumed, correctly, that this was Mr.Abascal.

“Oh, don’t mind the plants. They’re just something to keep me busy between all the folks that come in. Have a seat.” Mr.Abascal gestured to the leather chair. Kyle sat stiffly, back unnaturally upright and his feet flat on the beautifully embroidered Persian rug below him. 

“They’re really nice.” He said, his voice tentative and hoarse. He felt his face going hot, embarrassed of the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Mr.Abascal looked to the plants again and smiled to himself.

“Aren’t they? A gift,” He was saying, turning a framed photo towards Kyle so he could see, “From my husband.” 

Kyle’s eyes flitted up to his therapist's face for a moment and he felt himself relaxing as he looked at the photo. It was of a younger version of Mr.Abascal and his husband, in matching tuxes under a wedding arch. Mr.Abascal’s hair was still long then, but only reached his shoulders and had loose braids weaving between his light locks. His husband was a handsome Mexican man with neatly cropped dark hair and stubble lining his jaw.Both wore overjoyed smiles as they kissed. Kyle wondered for a moment what Mr.Abascal’s husband looked like now, and before he could think he was asking whether or not they both went by the same name.

Laughter from Mr.Abascal preceded his answer, and as he explained that Abascal was only half of his husband's surname, Kyle felt the tightness in his chest fading. Things were going to be okay. 

\-----

Kenny was waiting for Kyle in the front office when he got to school. Kyle had walked through the double doors feeling light from his first session with Mr.Abascal, and his spirits only lifted when he saw Kenny through the large window that looked into the front office from the hallway. He flashed a quick smile to his friend before making his way to the front desk to sign himself in. The woman behind it offered a kind,  _ It’s so good to have you back _ . 

“How did it go?” Kenny asked as they walked out of the front office, holding the metal door open for Kyle. 

“It was nice. He’s a lot better than Theodore, a lot more...human.” Kyle laughed a bit at the mental image his words conjured up, Theodore being a robot in disguise.

“Yeah? That’s great, dude. Anything specific you like about him?” Kenny asked and Kyle felt his heart swell at his friend's interest.

“Actually, um..” He twisted the strap of his satchel nervously, “He’s gay, so that really - is great, for me?” Kyle stammered. Kenny nodded understandingly as he opened the door to the cafeteria, letting Kyle inside ahead of him.

“It makes you feel comfortable, I get it.” Kenny smiled and Kyle’s shoulders let go of tension he didn’t realize they’d had in them. There was so much going right today, and for the first time since he woke up in the hospital, the thought of eating more than cereal didn’t make him queasy.

After lunch, Kyle and Kenny had four classes together. All of which were spent by Kenny helping Kyle collect the work he needed in order to catch up. Most of the teachers were new, South Park High never really being able to keep the same teachers for too long, and regarded Kyle with indifference. His peers met him with a different sort of disregard. One that was full of curious glances and half hearted, almost mocking at times, ‘welcome back’s. He tried not to think too much about it and Kenny made that easy, helping him keep his attention on the work that needed to be done. He was most nervous about his last class, the only one he didn’t have with Kenny.

“Man I wish Craig didn’t change his schedule.” Kenny said, walking Kyle to his seventh period. The last class had been fun enough, the teacher was one that was rather laid back and decided that since Kyle had so much work to catch up on that he would give them a free day. Kenny helped Kyle through some work from Science that he didn't quite grasp due to not being in class to have it properly explained. More than once, Kyle had found himself impressed by his friend. He almost joked a couple of time that if he knew Kenny was this smart he wouldn't have felt the need to exhaust himself playing catch up alone last year; He stopped himself, though. Unsure of whether or not it would open up a discussion about the awkward ending of their friendship before the summer started.   


“It’s okay, I’m pretty good at Spanish.” Kyle shrugged, though he knew the only reason he’d made it through the school day was because of Kenny. Craig had been showing the makings of a good friend for the past week, but it wouldn’t be the same.

“Alright,” Kenny leaned against the lockers outside of the classroom door and watched as students drifted in behind Kyle, seemingly checking who was in the class with him, “Don’t forget to meet me in the parking lot.”

“I wouldn’t  _ forget _ my ride home, dude.” Kyle rolled his eyes but smiled up at his friend. “I’ll see you then.” Kyle said, turning on his heel and walking into the class with a lowered gaze.

The class was mostly empty and though he knew that anyone he recognized would be a stranger now, he couldn’t stop himself from scanning the room for a familiar face. He found it to be a hopeless task and eventually sat behind Bebe, who was organizing colorful highlighters on her desk. He wondered whether or not she was any good in this class, and decided that even if she wasn't he admired what seemed to be initiative to take precise notes. He turned his attention to the window to wait for class to start, spotting a bright blue bird he didn’t know the name of hopping around in the tree outside. He started to daydream about what life would be like as a little bird, having no worries. Would it be a better life?  


“El Chavo? Is that you?” A deep, accented voice sounded from behind Kyle. The person who spoke was a Mexican boy with messy dark brown hair and a dark tan from the summer, his brown eyes catching the light as he grinned and sat next to Kyle.

“David? I didn’t know you were in this class.” Kyle smiled back, feeling a little less nervous about the year to come. He and David had maintained their friendship for as long as they could through the years, but once middle school ended they found they'd drifted apart over the summer. There was no messy breakup, just two people that seemed to outgrow their places in each other's lives.  


“Just got my schedule change finalized today. Easy A, yea?” David tapped his new schedule, somehow already perfectly creased. His words had a sly, almost proud tone that Kyle couldn’t help playfully shaking his head at. “I’d offer to help you cheat but you’re almost as fluent as me.” David teased, and Kyle felt as though they were preteens again. Hosting friendly competitions between themselves to see who could get the higher grades, and then who could become the teachers pet the fastest. Not necessarily because they liked being a teachers pet but so that they could brag to the other that they got special treatment.  


Kyle was retrieving his things from his satchel, opening a new binder that was already sorted with color coded dividers. “Yeah, I’ll give you a run for money for favorite student if you don’t watch out.” It was David’s turn to shake his head in a well meaning way now, and Kyle busied himself by jotting down the notes that the teacher had written on the board before class started. He could feel the stare of someone from the seat next to him and tried to ignore it, but he stole a glance from the corner of his eye and saw familiar dark hair. A small wave of relief washed over him and he turned to greet the person next to him.

“Oh, Craig! Ken told me you changed-” His heart dropped and the words died in his throat, which suddenly felt swollen shut under his white turtleneck. Eyes that were dark blue instead of the grey he expected looked blankly in his direction from underneath black hair. A face that still had baby fat, not the angular face of Craig, wore an uncomfortable and tightlipped expression. 

“Hey, Kyle.” Stan said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is bad - I might start uploading ever other day instead. I'm kinda just going through it rn and losing my will to actually write anything.

Kyle slammed his locker door closed harder than he’d meant to, but he couldn’t help it today. He was far away from his body, his feet and hands shackled to himself as he saw the top of his own head. He was pressing his palm hard against the wall as he walked, searching for something to grab onto to steady himself. Anything to stop the feeling of simultaneous weightlessness and being dragged endlessly downward. He walked clumsily forward, his feet hanging like dead weight from his body as he trudged on through the crowded corridor. He was making his way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He needed a moment, just a moment to sit down and try to fit himself back into his body. 

Rounding the corner into the bathroom, his shoulder connected forcefully with someone else’s. He mumbled an almost inaudible apology. The energy it took to get out one word drained an already empty boy. He dragged his feet, scuffed Chuck Taylors squeaking against the dirty bathroom tile as he made his way to a stall. He was ready to just sit and try to gather himself until the ringing of the last bell set him free to go home.

He put the toilet lid down and sat in the small stall, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. How had he gotten here? What happened to the feeling he had on Friday? The lightness that bloomed inside of him on his first day back at school? How had it disappeared so quickly? He ran a thumb over the scabs on his neck, hidden under another turtleneck, as he thought back to everything that happened on Friday.

He’d mostly ignored Stan for the rest of seventh period, though it wasn’t hard when he didn’t try to talk again after saying hey. His resolve to pretend Stan wasn’t there didn’t stop him from stealing glances he wasn’t certain were covert, and seeing Stan hunched over and struggling to translate the warmup they’d been given. Kyle couldn’t help himself, giving in to the sight of an old friend in academic need. He’d leaned over and tapped his estranged friend on the shoulder. “It’s  _ una _ casa, casa is a feminine noun.” He’d said, reading the incorrect answers Stan had sloppily written down. Stan looked up at him and said thanks, seemingly just as shocked as Kyle was at himself. Kyle had mumbled something about not mentioning it and retreated back into himself for the rest of the class. The interaction had left an awkward feeling in the air, but Kyle remembered that he’d still been happy then.

After school, Kenny drove him to Craig’s. They were headed over to hang out with Craig and Tweek, to play some old racing game that Kyle couldn’t remember the name of. The night started off so nice. Tweek and Craig had been feeding blueberries to their new guinea pig, Shepherd, on the bed. Kenny and Kyle sat playing the game together on the floor at the foot of the bed, backs against the box spring. Everything was good and fine but halfway through the night Kyle had felt himself changing. One moment he was laughing with his new friends and the next an unexplainable sense of dread was weighing him down.

He’d tried to push through the feeling but eventually he’d gone cold. Every sentence was laced with agitation and he’d begun to retreat within himself. By the end of the night, an uneasy tension had settled around the four of them and Kyle couldn’t muster the energy to apologize for the shift. Kenny drove him home. A silent and horrendously long drive that should have only lasted ten minutes. Kenny tried to talk about it, but Kyle had known that if he started the discussion Kyle would either lash out on him or fall apart. So with a withered sense of self and thin seams holding him together, he’d said goodnight and pretended not to hear Kenny calling after him. He just went up to his room and cried himself to sleep.

That was how he spent his weekend. Laying in a bed of dirty clothes and self pity. Craig and Tweek had sent a few concerned messages in their groupchat, but gave up after a few hours of no response. Kenny on the other hand, had kept texting until Kyle decided to turn his phone off. He'd shown up at Kyle’s house, but he had his mother turn him away. He had  _ wanted _ to get up and do something but couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed, to face the carpet on his bare feet. This morning he didn’t have a choice, though.

Kyle pushed his glasses above his hairline and rubbed his face, cringing at how mean he was toward the end of Friday night. He didn’t intend to be, hadn’t wanted to be. It just happened and once he was spitting vitriol at his friends he couldn’t find a way to stop it. He’d been avoiding them all day, Craig and Tweek were easy enough to stay away from but Kenny proved to be a bigger challenge. Kyle had compromised by talking a little during the classes they had together, but only about the schoolwork. It was lunch now and Kyle felt pathetic, sitting alone in a bathroom stall. It wasn’t like he’d be able to stomach anything anyways, though his stomach gnawing viciously at his spine.

_ Okay, I can’t sit here forever. I can at least grab something from the vending machines. _

He put his glasses back on and stepped out of the stall just as the bathroom door opened. Kyle jumped a little when he saw who had come in, startled but also completely distraught. Stan’s eyes widened for a moment, shock registering as he entered. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stan said, skirting around the sinks Kyle was making his way to.

“It’s okay.” Kyle’s voice wasn’t his own, it was higher and softer than usual. The sort of voice he reserved for teachers and authority figures that intimidated him. He turned on the sink and started to wash his hands after his pretend bathroom break, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Stan watching him in the mirror.

“Um, thanks for helping me out with Spanish. I never really got the whole feminine masculine thing.” 

Kyle was drying his hands now, watching as Stan spoke. His hands were in his front pockets and he wasn’t looking directly at Kyle. He seemed nervous.

“No problem, I used to struggle a lot with indefinite articles too.” He made his way to the trashcan so he could throw the paper towels he dried his hands with away. “I still do, really.” He shrugged and a silence rose between them, but Stan didn’t enter a stall and Kyle didn’t move closer to the exit.

“Hey, do you wanna go grab something to eat? I couldn’t really force down today’s lunch.” Stan asked, looking up at Kyle and though he was only a few inches shorter he was dwarfed by the nervous expression he wore. Before he could say no, Kyle’s stomach growled at the idea. He mentally cursed at himself, and weighed his options. If he said no, it would make things even more awkward than they already were around Stan and it wouldn’t matter  _ how _ confident he was in his Spanish, he’d dread the class for the rest of the year. If he said yes the most that would happen is they hang out at the McDonald’s down the street for twenty minutes. 

“Uh, sure. I mean, it’s not like I’ve really been able to eat off school grounds yet this year.” Kyle offered a small smile, his hands twisting the strap of satchel to keep them from grabbing at his own throat. 

\------

The McDonald’s was mostly empty, aside from a few other seniors that had come for lunch as well. Kyle and Stan were nestled in a corner booth, one that Stan chose. It made Kyle think that maybe he didn’t like that their peers were here either. Kyle was sipping his Coke, drinking because he was too nervous to eat despite the pain in his stomach. He didn’t know what he was doing here, with Stan. He seemed so different from the last time he saw him, through teary eyes and a blinding headache in Kyle’s hospital room. His face flushed as he remembered Stan gently wiping tears and snot from his face. That had happened, right?

“How have you been?” Stan asked, eating a few fries. Kyle looked down at his own order, and picked up a few fries but couldn’t bring himself to eat them.

“I’ve be-”

“You look better - oh.” Stan caught himself, “Sorry. I didn’t think you were going to say anything.” 

“It’s alright, um. I’ve been good.” Kyle set his fries back down and took another sip of his drink. 

“I just mean, you’ve gained a little of your weight back.” Stan’s eyes avoided Kyle’s. 

“I can’t stand this being so  _ awkward _ ,” Kyle laughed. If Stan didn’t know what to say, that was fine, but Kyle knew why things were so weird. “Let’s just start over.”

“What?”

“Start over. Pretend the summer never existed, that I never-” Kyle felt himself growing aware of the eyes of his peers, his hand moved to his throat and he scratched at the crescent shaped cuts. “We can talk about it all another time. But I’m not wasting this food being nervous to eat because we can’t hold a conversation.”

Stan looked at him with a blank expression for a long moment before he cracked a smile. “Works for me, dude.” He took a sip of his own drink and cleared his throat. “So, you and Ken?”

“Yeah?” Kyle looked over. He’d already busied himself by digging into his burger while he waited for Stan to agree to start over. 

“You guys got close again pretty fast.” 

“Ohh, is that jealousy I’m picking up on?” Kyle teased, finding it ridiculously easy to slip back into his old ways. He was probably just especially hungry. Stan grinned, a wide and authentic smile that Kyle didn’t know he missed until he saw it.

“No way, dude. Just..curious.” 

“Right, right.” Kyle’s tone was playful and light. “Who have you been hanging out with lately?” He didn’t address the time frame directly. He wanted to ignore it forever. 

“No one, actually.” Stan shrugged.

“Oh shit, dude. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I like it that way”

\-------

Kyle sat in the passenger’s side of Stan’s truck, parked in the High School parking lot. His stomach was full and he felt a lot better than he had in three days. They’d joked around for the rest of lunch and now Kyle was working on a mostly full milkshake that he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring into school. His shoes were pressed against the dash, sitting in a position that Stan had always said looked uncomfortable but was the most comfortable way to sit for him. 

“You gotta slow down, Red, you’re gonna give yourself a brain freeze.” 

“Slow me down yourself, asshole, we have five minutes before the bell and I am  _ not _ throwing this baby away.” Kyle said, trying unsuccessfully to hide the urge to rub the roof of his mouth. He cried out a little as the brain freeze hit him and he passed the milkshake to Stan. “You have to finish for me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please, it’s my dying wish. Oh!” Kyle draped himself dramatically across the triple seat truck bench. “I can feel it- the ice…!” He grinned up at Stan who laughed and started to drink the milkshake.

“You’re so fucking lame, dude.”

Kyle stayed on his back on the seat, looking up at his old friend. Where had the time gone? What happened to them? He pushed the thoughts away, this was a good moment. 

_ Don’t ruin this. _

“Okay! I’m done!” Stan gasped, holding the empty milkshake above his head. 

“Jesus, dude,” Kyle sat up in the middle seat, “Did you breathe at all?”

“Yes, I  _ breathed in _ your milkshake. Can we go in now?” 

Kyle brought his attention back to Stan, that stupid lopsided grin started to spread across his face and Kyle couldn’t help but smile back; looking his friend for what seemed like the first time. His black hair was glinting a soft honey amber from the sunlight that made its way through the windshield, face soft and round but jaw square and sturdy to balance it out. His eyes were light again, their true blue color for the first time in weeks as he looked expectantly at Kyle. His mouth was opening, full pink lips separating as he started to speak. 

“Dude?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and come on.” Stan laughed, getting out of the truck. “Don’t expect me to help you down, you’re not as small as you used to be.” 

“Hey, wait -” Before Kyle could even think, he reached out and grabbed Stan’s shoulder. He turned to face Kyle who had slid across the seat so that he was sitting on the edge. Stan’s eyes flitted from Kyle’s hand to his face, his brow furrowed. “Um. Can we hang out again, tonight? And talk about everything?” He pulled his hand away from Stan, feeling it climb up his own chest and resting on his throat. His fingers pulled at the collar of his turtleneck as he watched Stan’s expression soften. 

“Yeah, we can do that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using this story to cope? It's more likely than you think. Also I'm working on an animatic but it kinda spoils the ending & I don't know if I should release it when I get done or when the story ends?? Because I'll probably finish it long before I'm done writing

_ In. _

__ _ Hold. _

__ _ Out. _

__ The back of Kyle’s throat was burning with the threat of tears, hands trembling as he searched his phone for Spotify. He’d made a playlist for his breakdowns recently, just three songs with repetition and hopeful choruses that would bring him back from the edge. Something to focus on, something for him to repeat until he calmed down. He needed that playlist now. He found it and played the first song, the saddest song. The second one was realistic, and more hopeful. The last one was a happy song that he usually found himself laughing at as it was sung. The perfect cry along and then pick me up playlist. He sang quietly along to the first song, tears brimming in his eyes and that  _ one line  _ was coming up. The one line every song has, that you could listen to without the rest of the song and it would still mean so much. The sort of line that you could have a two hour loop to.

_ “There will be feasting, and dancing - In Jerusalem next year, and I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.”  _ He cried out in a thick sob. He didn’t know why that line always hit him the hardest. He wasn’t particularly invested in his parents' religion, and the song was so old he didn’t even know if there  _ would _ be a celebration in Jerusalem next year. It was just a message of hope for him. Something that the singer was looking forward to all those years ago when he wrote it, and Kyle could feel that hope through the barrier of time. Something that said,  _ I can’t die yet, not yet. There is more life to be lived. And I am going to live it. _

He listened to the steady, rhythmic instrumental and hummed to it with a broken voice as he cried. He just needed to get it all out of him. He needed to let the sadness pour over until it left him an empty mason jar, and he could choose what filled him up. That’s what always happened when he reached his breaking point, whether it built up slowly over weeks or just one day of bad things, he always felt so  _ good _ afterward. 

The tears had slowed and the last song was playing now. He tried to laugh as he sang but lyrics that were once silly were so very close to home and sad. He pushed down fresh tears, letting the ones on his face dry. His skin felt sticky and he didn’t want to open his eyes, he was so tired. So he sat there, in the new silence, and put himself slowly back together. A text came in.

**_I’m outside_ **

Kyle was in that empty stage that came before the happiness. He stared blankly at Stan’s text, and he would have felt conflicted if he had the energy to feel after all that. This was the cause of his breakdown. The idea of having to sit down with Stan and reopen wounds that weren’t done healing. He felt so stupid for asking for the opportunity to talk it all out. Why couldn’t he just do what he was doing with Kenny? Why couldn’t he just push it all down and dance around the questions until they stopped being asked?

Why did he want this closure?

Sniffling and wiping old tears off of his face, he sent a reply telling Stan he’d be out in a minute. The empty feeling was more like a security blanket as he made his way downstairs. This emptiness was so familiar to him. It was all he had right now, so held tightly onto it. He almost hoped that happiness wouldn’t ever come back. Why should it? When he always ended up back here?

Making his way across the yard to Stan’s truck, Kyle’s legs were light. Not with joy but form the lack of substance. There was nothing lifting him up, yes, but nothing was dragging him down anymore. He opened the passenger side door and slid in, offering a small awkward smile to Stan.

“You’ve been crying.” Stan’s voice was cautious, and curious. Kyle knew his eyes were red under his glasses and they glanced away from Stan’s worried gaze. He felt his hand moving to his throat, fingers tugging at the collar of his turtleneck as he tried to will the urge to pick at the scabs underneath out of himself.

“Nervous.” That was all Kyle could manage, in a flat and cracking voice.

“Hey,” Stan had been watching as Kyle’s fingers made their way to the scabs and picked them off. He grabbed Kyle’s hand and pulled it carefully away. “There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s just me.” His tone was soft and gentle, reminding Kyle of the way he spoke in the hospital only a few weeks earlier. 

Kyle’s hand slipped away from Stan’s and curled against his own chest. He felt his heartbeat then, a simple and slow thumping inside his ribcage. The thought of it inside of him, keeping him alive, it was surreal in this moment. He looked at Stan, his eyes falling to his chest. Under that dark hoodie was the same bloodied muscle buried under identical bones. This is what he fill himself up with this time, he decided. The precious knowledge of how real and alive everyone - everything is. Of how real and alive  _ he _ is. 

_ I am gonna make it through this year, if it kills me. _

\------

Stark’s Pond was a strange and liminal place at night. The dark water still and alight with silver moonbeams, stars twinkling softly in the reflection. It was like a giant mirror angled toward the night sky and as Kyle’s bare feet hung above the water he remembered one of his nightmares. The one where he drowned in the icy pond. He stared down at the darkness and let his mind wander.

He imagined what it would feel like to let himself slide down into the water’s frigid embrace. To let the cold weight of it all pull him down to the bottom. How would it feel for him to purposefully force the air out of his lungs to make himself sink quicker? He thought of the way the world might really look from the bottom of the pond, lightless and infinite. Would he be able to see the moon? For a moment he let himself wonder if that was truly what death was like; a cold abyss, at the bottom of an unnaturally still body of water.

“You want some?” Stan held a beer out to Kyle, interrupting his daydreaming.

“Sure.” He took the can, warmed by Stan’s hand and slick with condensation. One small swig and his face scrunched up at the taste, prompting a laugh from Stan.

“You had the same reaction the first time, too.” He grinned at Kyle who was stubbornly drinking more, as if to prove he could.

“Yeah I remember that. We were what, fourteen?” Kyle wondered out loud. Had it really been so long ago? It felt simultaneously like it was last week and a different lifetime.

“Oh man we were stupid kids.” Stan chuckled to himself, “I remember your mom coming outside and trying to find all the bottles we rushed to hide.” Kyle watched as Stan grinned down at his own hands, lost in thought too. 

“Well  _ I _ remember the ass whooping your dad gave you for stealing.” 

“Ha!” Stan turned to Kyle, “That’s right. Not even drinking, just stealing.”

“Stupid.” They said in unison about Stan’s father. The atmosphere in the cool night air was light, a comfortable sort of quiet wrapped itself around them on the end of the dock. Kyle kicked the surface of the water and they both watched as small ripples floated across the pond. Kyle took another swig, then passed the can back to Stan.

He finished the can and crushed it in his hand, gripping the crumpled aluminum and staring at it for a long moment. “Why did we ever stop hanging out, dude?” He asked. Shock moved through Kyle, he knew the reason they came out here but was still somehow taken aback by the bluntness of the question. 

“I-I don’t know.” He said, lamely. His brows furrowed and he tried to think back to the year before. “I was depressed and...you started hanging out with Cartman…” He chewed the inside of his lip, trudging through the foggy memory in his mind. Was that what happened?

“And I just wasn’t really here,” Kyle gestured to his head, “For like a year before my grades started going to shit. And once  _ that  _ happened, I sort of shut you and Ken out for good.” Kyle’s eyes were lowered as he spoke, observing his pale feet hovering above the black water.

“From what I remember,” Stan started, opening another beer, “I only started hanging around Eric because you and Kenny were getting close.” Kyle shot Stan a look of hurt, threaded with anger.

“Ken and I weren’t  _ getting close _ , he was...helping me with school.” 

“I don’t think selling you adderall counts as helping.” Stan’s voice was cold and he took a long drink. 

“You know, even if he was just selling me adderall, he was at least still around for me.” Kyle’s face was flush with emotion under his glasses but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. It was all muddled from alcohol his body wasn’t used to ingesting. “ _ He _ didn’t bail on me the second I stopped devoting all of my attention to him, like you.”

“No, he just waited until you were no longer a viable client.” Stan turned the can in his hand, looking into it with faux interest as he continued. “Then he ran off to Denver to spend all your money.”

Stan’s words cut deeper than Kyle had expected. He was prepared for them to have a disagreement tonight, but not for Stan to so ruthlessly hurt him like this. His hands trembled and he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or yell. 

“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Kyle was pushing himself up from the dock, standing and picking up his shoes. “Y-You think you’re the  _ only _ one who can stand me but you aren’t. I don’t even know why I came out here,” He pulled on his shoes, clumsily and with tears in his eyes. 

“Kyle..” Stan’s voice was gentle again, he was standing too now.

“No!” Kyle back away, the last little bit of tears left inside of him inched slowly and dryly down his face. “I  _ have _ real friends that care about me. I-I’m in a good place right now!” His face was red and scrunched up with rage and pain, his hand a fist slamming against his own chest to emphasize his words. They stood there for a moment. Kyle feeling himself fall apart for the third time that day, and Stan staring with a dazed look on his face. Kyle could see the two of them from an outsider's perspective, the moonlight in their hair as their feelings fought an invisible battle between their bodies.

Stan knocked back the rest of the beer he was drinking, “Let me drive you home.” He crushed the can and the irony of it would have made Kyle laugh if he could remember how to in that moment. Why did things always change so suddenly for him? What made the emotions in him shift so flippantly throughout his days? How had he lived like this for so long? Is  _ this _ why Stan and Kenny left him by himself last year? It had to be.

Kyle could feel his shoulders sagging and the anger leaving him as he watched Stan pick up their trash from the dock. The moon was so bright tonight. And the stars were so pretty. He bit his tongue, the last tear his dehydrated body could muster rolling down his cheek as he remembered that one painful line in his hopeful song.

_ There will be feasting, and dancing in Jerusalem next year. _

_ And I am gonna make it. _

\-----

Kyle was texting Kenny the whole drive home. Apologizing for it being so late and asking him to come over. He didn’t explain what happened, just that he needed to be with someone tonight. He needed to calm down and he didn't trust himself to be alone. Kenny was the only person that could calm him right now. Stan drove silently, his face set and unfeeling but his eyes were full of hurt. Both boys were asking themselves what happened. A year ago. Tonight.

“Ken.” Kyle threw his arms around his friend, wanting to bury his face in his chest but Kenny was shorter than him so he settled for his shoulder. Kenny was wearing his old parka while he waited in the cold of Kyle’s yard, and the fake fur tickled against Kyle’s face. He relaxed into Kenny as he returned the hug.

“What happened? Is that Stan?” 

“Can we just go inside, please?” Kyle looked over his shoulder, Stan was watching them from his truck. He couldn’t help wondering what was going through his head. Kenny was tugging on his hand now, leading him across the lawn to the front door. They entered quietly, it already being much later that Kyle planned on coming home. He and Stan had drank and joked for a while before actually getting to the reason they met up that night. 

Following Kenny carefully up the stairs to his own room, Kyle was still reeling from how fast everything had soured. He doubted himself and wondered if maybe he overreacted. Was Stan right about Kenny?

“Okay,” Kenny sat on the bed, pulling Kyle down next to him. “Do you wanna tell me what that was all about? Stan was giving me a serious death glare.” His eyes searched Kyle’s face as he spoke. Kyle just shrugged and leaned against his friend, wrapping his arms around him. He felt empty again. 

“I just wanted to talk. About why we stopped hanging out, you know? I just wanted a reason.” Kyle sounded pathetic, even to himself. Why did it hurt so much when the only interaction he and Stan had for the past few months was him wiping snot off of Kyle’s face in the hospital. 

“And what went wrong?” Kenny ran his hand through Kyle’s hair. 

“He… he turned it into a chance to shit talk you.” Contempt flashed through Kyle as he thought back to what Stan said, and he pulled away. “He said you only stuck around because I was buying.” Kyle saw something flicker in Kenny’s eyes before they softened, focusing on Kyle. He reached up, cradling Kyle’s face in his hand.

“That isn’t true.” Light blue eyes looked straight through Kyle, making him feel so small and like everything at the same time. He could feel his face heating up against Kenny’s palm, he reached up to touch Kenny’s face in the same way but lost his nerve. He placed his hand on Kenny’s hand instead, holding it in place against his cheek.

“I know.” Kyle’s voice was soft in a different way now, a low whisper into the air between them instead of a product of emotional pain. His eyes flitted around Kenny’s face, taking in every freckle and blemish. His gaze settled on his friends mouth and he felt himself leaning in, that sharp white tooth out of line getting closer. He stopped himself.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?” His voice matched the breathless sound of Kyle’s and hope bloomed in his chest. Kyle waited a moment longer before he spoke again.

“Can I..?” He couldn’t find the courage to ask out loud. What if he said no? What if this was the end of this friendship too? Who would Kyle have?

Kenny responded by pressing his lips against Kyle’s. Electricity shot through Kyle’s veins, and his hands shook as he leaned into it, kissing him back. Slow and unsure, and everything a first kiss should be. Kyle could his heartbeat in his fingertips, and he placed a trembling hand on Kenny’s chest. He clutched the fabric of his shirt, feeling the crooked canine in Kenny’s mouth pressing gently into his bottom lip. This moment could last forever. He  _ hoped _ it would last forever. Just him and Kenny for the rest of time. This fire that heated his palms as they touched. Staying for eternity, just to warm him. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The council has decided this chapter and the next one or two are to be soft and happy because Kyle deserves it. Also I am just an little creature,,, living out his daydreams of having a loving boyfriend,, an i cannot help thies,,

The kiss didn’t last until the end of time, despite Kyle’s efforts to drag it out. Eventually Kenny had pulled away and jokingly asked for some time to breathe. Kyle sheepishly apologized, but Kenny told him not to worry about it and pulled him down onto the bed beside him. Now they lay there, legs tangled among Kyle’s unmade sheets. He hadn’t relaxed since the kiss broke, he knew that memory weakened the more you remembered but he kept thinking about it. He also knew that something had changed between the two of them, they’d laid together in this bed a dozen times since reconnecting but now it was no longer the close proximity of childhood friends. It was a feeling that had started to bloom in Kyle’s chest soon after Kenny came back into his life, and he found himself wondering if Kenny felt it too. He quieted the doubts in his mind, of course he felt the same. 

“Kyle?” Kenny laced his fingers through Kyle’s, holding their hands in the air above their faces. He stared up at them, and Kyle did too. That warmth in his chest flourishing at the sight. “Will you tell me why you went to the hospital?”

Kyle’s blood ran cold and he almost said no, but bit his tongue to stop himself. If he wanted the change that happened that night to be good, he had to open up. He knew that. He closed his eyes and turned his face away from their hands, burying it in Kenny’s neck. He pushed the memories of that horrible night out of his head and focused on the heat of Kenny’s skin against his own. Once he was ready, he pulled away and spoke in a soft, slow voice.

“Ken, I tried to…” He hesitated. Saying this outloud would make it real. It would violate this part of his life that had nothing to do with his attempt. Kenny had already been so careful with him, what sort of pity would be cast Kyle’s way after he said this? He didn’t know if he was ready. In fact, he was positive that he would never be ready. But he didn’t give himself a choice, and squeezed Kenny’s hand tightly as he prepared to confess. 

“I tried to kill myself.”

The silence that followed was so heavy and long that Kyle was unsure if Kenny was still awake until he heard him utter a quiet, “Oh.” Then he felt himself being pulled close to Kenny, the top of his head being kissed over and over again. In the same way one would hold and kiss a pet that had gone missing and been thought dead. The idea of Kyle being a lost pet made him laugh a little but when he pulled away he saw that Kenny’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Wait, Ken, I’m sorry.” He returned the hug with equal conviction, holding his head against his chest and running shaking hands through his straw colored hair. Kenny was limp in Kyle’s arms for a moment, and it only made him hug his friend tighter. He knew that feeling, the sort of sadness that builds up for so long that when it finally begins to rear its head it drains everything from you. Sadness that is so heavy and burdening that you think getting it out of you would be a relief, but it's exit only ever serves to leave your limbs weighted down and your emotions dulled. 

Kyle was rubbing Kenny’s back, quietly crying as his friend heaved dramatic sobs into his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I’m okay.” Kyle was repeating, his voice getting quieter and his shirt getting soaked, sticking to his cold chest where Kenny’s face was buried. There seemed to be no end to the tears, Kenny’s tear ducts like infinite wells. A small fit of hiccups erupted in Kenny before he made himself small against Kyle’s thin frame, resuming his crying in a muffled way. They sat like that for ages, Kyle’s scrawny body trying desperately to wrap him up as they both cried. 

It wasn’t until the tears had left Kyle’s eyes burning and face sticky, and Kenny’s sobs had subsided entirely into hiccups that Kenny finally spoke again. He was combing his hands through Kyle’s hair, straightening the red curls between his fingers and watching them bounce back into place, taking in the way strands gleamed blond in the moonlight from the window next to him. “I feel so useless.” His voice was raw when he spoke and it was almost enough to shatter Kyle’s already breaking heart. 

“You aren’t useless.”

“I didn’t know, I wasn’t here when-” Kenny’s voice cracked and Kyle knew that a fresh wave of tears was coming. 

“You couldn’t have known. It’s okay.” Kyle shushed, rocking him in his arms and kissing his forehead. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Kenny cry.

\-----

When Kyle first woke up he thought the day before had been a strange dream. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. He reconnected with Stan only to have a fight the very same night. An opportunity to mend an old friendship, snuffed out before it could even become more than pitiful embers. He wondered if he could have done something differently. What if he hadn’t gotten angry? What if he brushed off Stan’s comments and instead pushed to learn more about why he was so concerned with how close he was getting to Kenny last year? A moment of emptiness passed through Kyle as he considered the options. Did he choose the right one?

His face flushed when he remembered what happened after that, how he’d come home and Kenny kissed him. For a brief moment he could still feel the warmth of the kiss against his lips and he reached across the bed to find Kenny. He wasn’t there. Kyle sat up, finding his glasses on the nightstand and looked around the room.  _ Was _ it a dream?

As if on cue, his bedroom door opened and Kenny walked in. He was wearing his jeans from the night before and one of Kyle’s t-shirts that was a little snug around his muscles. He was texting someone as he walked in and Kyle watched him curiously, taking note of his damp hair. The water darkened straw strands to a light brown that clung to his freckled face, and Kyle found himself smiling. Almost as though he could feel Kyle’s questioning gaze, he looked up, grinning while he pocketed his phone. 

“Just making sure Karen is alright. I’m usually the one that helps her in the morning, but Kevin is home so he’s covering for me.” Kenny made his way across the room to him, and Kyle could feel his heart flutter as Kenny took his hands in his own. His skin was warm and tender from his shower and he smiled down at Kyle, that stray canine glinting in the soft morning sun.

Kyle’s face angled upward into a kiss, closemouthed and relatively short. He was thankful for the brevity, unsure of the state of his breath. He found himself moving away from Kenny’s mouth, planting his lips on his cheek, his jaw, the top of his neck, as he pulled Kenny sideways into his lap. When he stopped, he looked up and saw Kenny’s eyes cast down at him, glazed softly over in relaxation. He marveled at how at ease Kenny was in his lap, while he was trembling with fear in this new territory. Kenny was pulling at the collar of the turtleneck Kyle had fallen asleep in, tugging it down and leaning in but he stopped short. The breath in Kyle’s throat hitched as he felt Kenny’s thumb caressing the scabs on his neck. A shiver ran up his spine from the careful touch.

“What’s this?” Kenny asked sincerely, fingers still moving on the wounds.

“I have nightmares, sometimes,” Kyle’s voice broke with another shiver, “A-and I wake up, scratching myself.” 

Kenny’s hand stilled, resting now on Kyle’s collarbone. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the scratches. He moved slowly, intentionally. Taking his time as he went from one to the next, soft lips opening and closing against Kyle’s skin. He was gripping Kenny’s waist and as that stray tooth caught against his flesh, Kyle dug his nails into Kenny through his shirt. This forced an exhale out of Kenny and Kyle tensed under the hot air on his skin. He wasn’t used to so much physical contact and he could feel himself getting overwhelmed. A sort of sensory overload that spiked his anxiety, and he slid Kenny off of his lap before the constriction in his chest could really settle in.

“I need to go shower.” He said, kissing him one more time before getting up to leave.

\----

Kenny kept his head on Kyle’s shoulder for most of the school day, ignoring the scolds from teachers and glances from other students. Kyle would have liked to believe it was because of the change between them, the twin warmth in their chests but he wasn’t so naive. He knew it wasn’t that - not just that at least. Kyle couldn’t fool himself, not with the way Kenny had cried last night. The broken sobs still rung in his ears, twisting his heart strings into painful knots. 

It was lunch now and Kenny’s head was on Kyle’s shoulder like every other hour so far that day. He seemed more mellow than that morning and though Kyle understood, he couldn’t quite make amends with the fact that what he’d done to himself caused pain to another. Especially not if it was Kenny. Around the same time last year, Kyle wouldn’t have cared if anyone outside of his family was shaken up. Kenny was different now. He was gentle, but didn’t treat Kyle like he couldn’t handle himself. He was understanding and patient, without ever making Kyle feel stupid to being so slow to come around or to explain what he felt. 

Kyle placed a nervous hand on Kenny’s forearm, resting on the lunch table in front of them. “Will you try eating something?” He didn’t know how to be careful like Kenny, the instinct to nurture others didn’t come to Kyle the same way. But he wanted to try.

“I probably should, shouldn’t I? I just…” Kenny trailed off, his body sagging heavier against Kyle’s shoulder. 

“You don’t have to eat it all,” Kyle ran his hand through Kenny’s hair, “just a few bites, okay?” He was familiar with that void that was in Kenny’s stomach. The abyss of emptiness that made one ravenous and full at the same time. Sending hunger pains through one’s body but not allowing them to eat. Kenny nodded and picked up the smallest fry on his tray, chewing it slowly. It looked to Kyle as though it took a lot of effort to eat, and he knew from experience that it  _ did _ take a lot of effort to eat like this.

The sound of trays clacking against the table made Kyle look up, Craig and Tweek had returned with their lunches. Kyle offered a small smile but felt suddenly out of place. He knew they were his friends now but with Kenny effectively out of social commission, he felt like he was intruding on a friend group. Craig’s eyes flicked from Kyle to Kenny with his head on his shoulder and almost subconsciously, his hand moved to hold Tweek’s. It was as though simply seeing a show of affection, no matter how minimal, made him want to be close to Tweek. Kyle allowed himself to wonder if he and Kenny would end up like that. Then he scolded himself, he always had a habit of reading too far into things. Thinking of himself as more important to other people than he really was, and always breaking his own heart because of it.

“What’s up with him?” Craig asked, shoving a small handful of fries into his mouth. Kyle’s eyes narrowed as his head came back down from the clouds. Craig talking about Kenny as though he weren’t right there rubbed him the wrong way. It reminded him of the way his parents talked about him with the medical staff in the hospital. Like he was some hypothetical; a problem to be solved. He knew it wasn’t that deep. This was just a concerned friend. So he shook the thoughts from his head and tried to keep the edge out of his voice as he responded.

“He’s just having a bad day, I think.” He couldn’t bring himself to fully speak on Kenny’s behalf, hating it so much when others spoke for him.

“A bad day.” Kenny said with a scoff that bordered on a mad laugh. Kyle felt himself tense up, he didn’t mean to insult Kenny.

“Sorry…” He said, voice meek and small.

“Oh,” Kenny sat up, taking Kyle’s hands in his own and looking up at him with all the sweetness he had the energy to show. “I’m not angry at you, don’t worry. It’s just difficult to wrap my head around.” He squeezed Kyle’s hands, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. Kyle nodded, eyes flitting down to Kenny’s mouth.

“You guys know we’re still here, right?” Craig spoke, lip curled in mock disgust as he picked up another fry. Tweek nudged him, telling him to be nice. 

Kyle felt his face getting hot, suddenly embarrassed. What must that have looked like to them? He pulled his hands away from Kenny’s, shoving them into his lap and keeping his eyes trained on food that he too was unable to eat. 

“I’m just kidding babe, they know that.” Craig was saying, but his voice sounded far away to Kyle. A wave of anxiety had knocked him to his feet, and was pulling him down. A sense of shame rising in him, despite the fact that Craig and Tweek were dating too. That face Craig had made, no matter how much of a joke it was, it brought back a dark sense of uncertainty about himself. He hadn’t felt this since he was in middle school, when his mind would wander to a boy he had a crush on and he worried that his peers could somehow read his thoughts. 

“Do you want us to go, Kyle?” Tweek asked, his voice gentle and bringing him back to the table. 

“You guys are fine, you don’t have to go.” Kyle shook his head. He felt stupid for being ashamed. This was nothing for him to be ashamed of, he figured that out a long time ago. He exhaled a silent laugh at the liar named anxiety. He was with friends. They were like him. He was okay. He reached up to the table, taking Kenny’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers. He looked over, smiling at Kyle as he started to eat. Kyle felt the weight of the past few days lifting off of his shoulders and started to eat too.

\-----

Kyle was surprisingly still in a good mood when seventh period arrived. Kenny’s spirits had lifted after spending the lunch with his friends and though Kyle didn’t say much, as usual, he felt himself getting lighter too. Now he was making his way to his desk in Spanish, not even worried about the fact that Stan would be sitting right next to him when he came to class. No, this was a good day so far, and Kyle would damned before he let slip so carelessly through his hands. Good days were so hard to come by. 

Despite this pointed decision to not let anything Stan related ruin his day, Kyle found himself chewing on his lip with anticipation. Waiting for Stan to walk in and say something. Or say nothing at all. He couldn’t decide which was worse. With his hands holding themselves, nails digging into his palms he thought instead about how Tweek and Craig invited them over to hang out. He wanted to be excited but he was worried that after how he behaved last time, it was some sort of plot to cut him out of the friend group. An irrational fear, he knew, but one that concerned him anyways. 

Kyle was so lost in thought that when the bell for class to begin rang, he jumped in his seat. A deep chuckle from beside him brought his attention to David. 

“Easy, El Chavo, it’s just the bell.”

He smiled sheepishly at David, and turned his attention to the notes on the board. He was ready for school to be over with, so he could have a second chance and show the guys that he wasn’t that mean person that came out last time. He also wanted the class to last forever, wanting to conjugate verbs until he died so he didn’t have to face the embarrassment of returning to Craig’s house. He got part of both wishes, lot’s of conjugation that he had to focus on and the bell still rang after class. He’d been so busied with his schoolwork that he didn’t even notice Stan wasn’t there until it was time to leave.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine has me missing getting high with my friends so I had to write a chapter about the boys vibing - oh also, don't do drugs kids. drugs are bad, mkay?

The dining room was warm and lit only by the afternoon sunlight. The hardwood of the dining table served to support Kyle’s elbows as he listened to his parents talk. He’d come downstairs to wait for Kenny to come pick him up, and his parents used this as an opportunity to ask him how things have been with school. He didn’t have much to say, he hadn’t been back for very long. He appreciated their concern, knowing it stemmed from the weekend he spent shut up in his room. Though he wanted to reassure them, he also didn’t want to talk about anything regarding his feelings. He was conflicted about the way he sorted school in his mind. A part of him was glad to be back; to be around friends again. A more cynical part of him was scared of how quickly it could all slip away. How much longer did he have to be happy before things went back to normal? How long would it take for his friends to leave him this time? How long before he resigned slowly back into himself? 

“And, well, we’re just asking that you spend some time at home.” Kyle’s father was defending a request he hadn’t even heard.

“Hm?”

“We’re  _ glad _ you’re feeling well enough to spend time with friends,” His mother spoke up, placing a hand on her husband's arm and looking at him as though she were concerned with the way Kyle was reacting. “But we want to see you too.” A weighty sadness fell over the three of them then.

“We missed you.” His father said, voice tired and quiet but trying to be upbeat for Kyle’s sake. 

Kyle could feel his shoulders sagging as he looked between his parents somber faces. His mother's green eyes, the same as his, full of worry and looking less fierce than he remembered them being before he went to the hospital. There was a lot of tension between the two of them before he attempted, she’d tried to be as accommodating as she could but people can only stretch so thin. He assumed this was why she was trying so hard now that he was back. 

The same could be said for his father in a different way. They hadn’t spoken much but only for the lack of trying on Kyle’s part. In the months before his attempt Kyle had become an irritated and exhausted mess. He was so worn out from the things he felt, that he had to fight, that he’d lost the energy to be nice to the ones who loved him. He’d taken to having screaming matches with his father, his mother eventually intervening and having to separate them like rivaling siblings. Maybe that was why he was so unsettled by his mood swing at Craig’s. He was scared that things were getting bad again. They’d barely even gotten better.

“I’ll stay home this weekend, I missed you guys too.”

\----

Kenny’s car was parked on the curb when Kyle eventually made it outside. He’d gotten caught up with his parents, finding that when they talked about something that wasn’t him or how he was doing, he enjoyed their company.

The car was a small, beat up, faded black model that Kyle was positive wasn’t being manufactured anymore. It was relatively clean on the inside, an empty paper to go cup from Tweak Bros. in the middle console being the only trash, though there were clothes draped across the backseat. He’d almost asked about them but quickly decided it wasn’t his business, he opted instead to fold his hands on his lap and try to ignore the scabs that caught the fabric of his shirt on his neck. He was trying not to think about how it felt when Kenny had kissed him there that morning, face flushing at the thought when Kenny spoke.

“So, what kind of music are you into these days?” 

“Mostly the same.” 

“At least  _ something _ stayed the same.” Kenny said as turned on the radio. Kyle was unsure whether or not to take it as a joke. He gave a halfhearted laugh and turned his attention back to his hands. They had been so close that morning and all day, why did he feel so awkward? Was this newfound closeness the cause of his sudden timid behavior? He hadn’t been kissed,  _ really _ kissed since middle school.

“I think I wanna call you Honey.” Kenny was speaking again, and Kyle was thankful. His mind had begun to wander and he really didn’t want to think about the last person he’d been kissed by. He wanted Stan as far away from this day as possible. _Especially_ the middle school version of him.  


“Oh- why Honey?” 

“Your hair. It looks like honey in the light.”

“Thank you! I mean- that’s just so nice. I’ve never, um.”

Kyle felt his face getting hotter, he didn’t know Kenny paid attention to things like that. He also didn’t know what to make of a sweet nickname. The only nickname he’d ever been given was by his family. Was he supposed to come up with one to call him in return? Did it have to be as thoughtful or could it be something uninspired? He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes cast out of the window at the scenery that passed them in the car as he thought about all of this. The ride was coming to and end, and Kyle could see Craig's house up ahead.  


“Man, I feel like I don’t know you at all.” Kenny spoke again, his tone different now. It wasn’t mean, it had just lost it’s lightness. 

_ Bitter.  _ Kyle thought.  _ He sounds bitter. _

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re joking?” Kenny’s eyes flicked over, and he turned down the radio. “The old Kyle would have called me out on how lame that nickname was. He would have called it stupid - called  _ me _ stupid.”

“The old Kyle?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hurt tugging at his heart as he realized the nickname was just a joke. A test.

“The Kyle I knew before all of this  _ shit _ happened. The Kyle that was headstrong and bitchy. I mean, the good kind of bitchy.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled into the driveway of Craig’s house. He put the car in park and looked over at Kyle.

“You’re just so small now. So quiet and in your head. I mean - who are you?” 

There was a frustration in Kenny’s voice that Kyle didn’t understand. Where was this all coming from? Kyle reached over, placing his hand on Kenny’s. 

“Can we talk about this another time? Can we have fun tonight?”

The lines in Kenny’s brow unfurrowed and his eyes softened when he looked at Kyle. He reached out, and Kyle felt his narrow face being cradled in Kenny’s hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m not upset at you, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around everything.” He leaned in, closing the space between their mouths before Kyle could respond. The kiss was soft and brief, and he pulled away to talk again.

“It just feels like I wasn’t gone for that long. But  _ so much _ changed for you. So much that I wasn’t here for, even when I was in town.” 

“I mean..it’s alright.” Kyle didn’t know what to say. He wanted to say that it wasn’t alright. That even though they were here now, kissing and harboring twin hearts, he was still angry. That he was still confused and hurt. But Kenny looked so sad already, and Kyle didn’t want to think about it all anyways. He could never be who he was before. He didn’t remember who he was before. Kenny was taking in Kyle, sad blue eyes set like sapphires in his freckled skin, looking straight into Kyle’s soul. 

They were kissing again. There was something about it that seperated it from the first handful of careful kisses they’d had so far. It wasn’t like their first kiss the night before either, of course Kyle’s hands still trembled, but they didn’t falter when they ventured to Kenny’s face. No, his hands held steady and pulled him closer.

Kenny was right. A lot had changed when Kyle was alone. He didn’t know who he was anymore, he didn’t know where he was going. All that he was sure of anymore was that he wanted this. He wanted him. A soft pair of sapphire eyes to look at in the night, warm hands that silently asked for invitations before they placed themselves on his skin. He wanted to stay like this. He wanted to be held by these gentle, but sure hands. He wanted Kenny to call him Honey. He wanted to shut out the rest of the world, but the kiss was ending. Kenny was pulling away, and the world was still there.

\-----

Craig’s room was dark, illuminated only by the led lights that lined the walls and the tv on his dresser. Thick blackout curtains prevented the late afternoon sun from getting into the room, despite how hard it tried. On the ceiling were old glow in the dark stars that had long since stopped glowing, hanging lifelessly above the boys. A song Kyle didn’t know the name of was sounding from the tv, the lights changing with it. Kyle watched them from his place on the floor, it was soothing to see the lights pulse with the beat. Kenny was on the floor next to him, pressing a small teal pipe into his hand. 

Kyle pushed himself up onto his side, clumsy hands holding the pipe and trying to light it. He laughed at himself as he failed and sat up fully now. He placed a thumb over the hole in the side of the pipe, lighting it and inhaling. Was he doing this right? He felt stupid and embarrassed as he held the smoke in his mouth. Wasn’t he supposed to breathe it in? He tried but it stung when it hit the back of his throat as he opened his mouth to let it out, a small white cloud pouring out. He laughed at himself, knowing he was doing everything wrong.

“Kenny, will you help him? He’s just wasting it at this point.” Craig’s voice was monotone from the bed. He and Tweek were laying up there, Tweek curled up half asleep on his chest and smiling at Kyle’s failed attempt. 

“Yeah, come here.” Kenny sat up, taking the pipe and lighter from Kyle. Kyle was shaking his head though, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I don’t want to smoke, it burns my throat.” He didn’t mind it much, really, he just felt like he was making a fool of himself. Besides, his mind had already settled into a comfortable high and he didn’t think he needed anything else. He laid back down on the ground, Kenny shrugging and taking another hit before reaching up to pass it on to Tweek. Kyle folded his arms under his head, eyes focusing again on the led lights but not really looking at them. He was thinking instead about how nice the day had been so far. Could it stay like this? Could he always have these friends - have Kenny?

It wasn’t long before the group decided they were hungry and after a small debate over what to eat they chose to drive into town to Wendy’s. The four of them piled into the restaurant, talking idly about what they wanted. Kyle didn’t know what to choose and he just decided he’d have whatever Tweek was getting, since Kenny and Craig were getting something spicy. After they chose, Craig sent Tweek and Kyle to get the sodas and condiments to busy them. 

The two made their way to the small counter, pulling tiny paper cups out of place to fill them up. Kyle was already nervously giggling to himself when Tweek knocked over the paper cup and pumped ketchup onto the countertop. He couldn’t help but to reach out and try to catch the mess and only made himself laugh obnoxiously loud.

“Napkin - get a-” Tweek began, looking disappointed at the ketchup.

Kyle nodded wisely and glanced around, seeing only straws and plastic lids.

“They don’t  _ serve  _ napkins.” He hissed through panicked laughter, his flub lost on the both of them as he smeared his hand on the countertop. 

Tweek was laughing too now as they pulled out more tiny cups and tried fruitlessly to scoop up the mess. 

“I think that’s it.” Kyle said, looking around to find the trashcan but before he could grab the tiny cups Tweek was already flicking them into the gap between the countertop and the wall. Kyle tried to stop him but all of the cups were gone and he found himself laughing in loud disbelief at his friend. Tweek shushed him through his own bubbly giggling, but it was futile.

“Could you guys be any louder?” Craig called out in a whisper shout from behind them. He sounded like a disapproving mother and the boys appropriately lowered their heads, snickering to each other like misbehaving children. 

At the table, Tweek was back to being quiet and smiling languidly with half lidded eyes as he ate. Kyle was surprised to see him so calm, even though he’d made a lot of progress from the year before Tweek was usually still tapping out a nervous beat on tabletops. Craig had an arm around him, sipping his soda and scrolling through his phone. Beside Kyle, Kenny was on his phone too though he didn’t seem as focused as Craig. It looked to Kyle like Kenny was just trying to find a way to busy his hands at the silent table. Kyle rested his head on top of Kenny’s, using his height to his advantage. 

“Are you bored?” Kyle kissed his soft straw colored hair, mind too relaxed to care about the prying eyes of other patrons.

“Just checking on Karen.” They’d left Karen at Craig’s house with Tricia, Kenny didn’t want to bring the girls into the car. Even though Craig was mostly sober, Kenny didn’t trust anyone to be  _ sober enough _ to drive his little sister around. It was completely sober, or nothing.

“So, are you guys dating now or what?” 

Kyle looked across the table to see Craig watching them, and Tweek gazing over with dulled brown eyes. Discomfort rose in Kyle as he moved away from Kenny, he didn’t know what he should say. What would Kenny be comfortable with as an answer? Stealing a glance at Kenny, he was surprised to find him waiting expectantly for an answer as well.

“Oh we’re...seeing where things go.” Kyle mumbled out, suddenly very interested in drinking his soda. It wasn’t a lie, they’d kissed a few times and not said anything more about it. So why did it feel like one? And why was the look on Kenny’s face one of uncertainty?

“Craig, you’re being nosy.” Tweek chimed in, offering a reassuring smile to Kyle. He took solace in Tweek’s smile. 

Kenny went back to normal after a few minutes and the night continued without any of Kyle’s mood swings. No sadness, rage or anxiety tonight. It was just him and his friends, acting younger and dumber than they were. Being high and obnoxious at 7 pm on a Tuesday because what else is there to do in a small town?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude u ever write something that melts ur own heart?? i'm turning myself into a k2 shipper wtf

Kyle heaved himself out of Kenny’s car, shielding his eyes from the setting sun. They’d only just left Craig’s house, stopping by for a few hours to sober up before splitting ways. Craig kept his room so dark that Kyle’s eyes hadn’t yet adjusted in the five minute car drive. He would have had more time if the plan to drop Karen off at home hadn’t fallen through when she begged to stay the night at the Tucker house. Kenny normally wouldn’t be able to say no to his little sister, and that bias in combination with the fact that he was spending the night at Kyle’s meant that she got her way. Kyle wasn’t too aware of Kenny’s home life these days but if it was anything like when they were kids, he didn’t blame the two of them for sleeping anywhere except their own beds. 

A small ripple of sadness made its way through Kyle’s chest as he looked at his friend and thought about how overwhelmingly kind he was. How did he turn out that way when he grew up in such a volatile situation? Kyle had everything. Loving parents that were as patient as they could be, even after it began to harm them. A little brother that, while as aloof as any other kid, looked up to him and made sure he knew it. His family had a comfortable amount of money, and though he didn’t ever ask for much he usually got what he wanted. Was there something wrong with him? Was there something in his blood - in his brain - that made him this way? What was the secret to that gentle kindness that came so effortlessly to Kenny? 

Kyle didn’t know, and as they stepped in unison onto the concrete doorstep, he felt guilty. He felt guilty for having so much and being such a bad person. Was he bad? He felt guilty that Kenny had so little, and that he had found a way to make the best of it. That he  _ had _ to make the best of anything in the first place. Kenny smiled at him now, and Kyle looked away to open the door. He didn’t want to ruin the day by making Kenny’s life about himself.  _ Oh, that’s another thing.  _ He thought as he kicked off his shoes,  _ I am so disgustingly self centered. _

His mother was in the living room with Ike curled up against her, and Kyle could feel a sense of unjust jealousy and melancholy rising in him. He thought back to when he was Ike’s age. How he had done the same; curling himself into the maternal embrace of his mother every morning before school. Back when his only worry was what game he and his friends were going to play at recess that day. He watched as Ike bobbed his head to the intro of some cheaply made spin off of a show Kyle used to love, the song was different now. Perverted into something that catered to the newest wave of children, and it evoked an uncanny feeling in Kyle.

Where had those years gone? He was always told that growing up happened fast but he didn’t know that meant childhood slipped away overnight. What happened to him?

Kenny had said hello when Kyle wasn’t listening and Mrs.Broflovski turned to greet them. “Well, look who finally decided to join us.” A playful and well meaning tone was in his mother's voice but Kyle couldn’t help looking away.

Did she miss those early mornings too? Did she miss the time when Kyle was small and carefree and full of life as much as he missed it? And had she been equally surprised to fall asleep one night with her little boy and wake up the next day to find he’d suddenly become a scrawny and pensive thing?

“You have dinner waiting in the kitchen, there should be enough for Kenny though it might be cold by now…” She trailed off as she thought about it before she looked back up at the two of them. “Are you staying the night, Kenny?”

“If it’s not too much of a bother, ma’am.” 

“It never is, dear,” Mrs. Broflovski smiled and turned a pointed look at Kyle, “Though it would be nice if you let us know beforehand.”

Kyle nodded, barely listening to the interaction. He was fighting it but he could feel that dread sinking back into him. Could he not have one day? Just  _ one  _ day where things felt more than just okay? Was he always going to be like this?

He forced the thoughts out of his mind. He couldn’t let himself think like that, it was sort of thinking that led to what happened in July. His hand was on his throat now, feet moving on autopilot as he followed Kenny into the kitchen. It felt so long ago now. But it wasn’t really. He’d just been hiding from it. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about it. He remembered getting so angry at Stan for not being able to say it but now he couldn’t either. The first time he’d said it since he was released was when Kenny asked. 

“I know I say this every time I come over, but your mom is so nice, dude.” 

Kyle looked up, surprised to find himself standing in the middle of the kitchen. Before him was Kenny, having already made their plates and getting ready to reheat them. A feeling of unease was in him as he watched Kenny.  _ I tried to kill myself. _ He heard his own voice in the form of a memory. He was slipping out of his body now, pulling out a chair to sit down. He knew what was happening and was helpless to stop it.

_ I tried to kill myself and yet this is so normal.  _

_ Nothing has changed.  _

_ I am not better. _

_ I am not real. _

_ None of this is real.  _

_ And I am not a person. _

“You good?” Kenny asked from the other side of the kitchen, his voice and the low hum of the microwave sounding distant. Muffled. 

“Just feel...weird.” Kyle said, gripping the back of the chair he sat in. He felt like he was going to float away. Dissociation is what they had told him to call it. But wasn’t it supposed to have a cause? He knew his anxiety attacks could come at random, he'd long since made amends with that curse, but what reason did this have to be here? He was having a good day. He was happy and fine. So why was he floating away - why was he not in his body?

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and he looked over at Kenny with wide eyes. His friend was wearing a concerned expression as he moved closer, and Kyle felt himself moving away in time. 

“Weird how?” Kenny asked, lifting Kyle’s face close to his with the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder. Kyle reared back, shaking Kenny’s hands off of him. He didn’t want to be kissed or touched, he just wanted to go over all of the things he hadn’t let himself think about since he got home. He wanted to take his time and sort these feelings, to try and understand them.

“It’s nothing. Can we just eat?” 

“Sure.” Kenny placed a brief kiss on Kyle’s forehead before he moved away to retrieve their dinner. Kyle pulled his hands away from his throat and looked down at himself. His thin fingers looked alien to him. The way his bones protruded under the worn fabric of his jeans, his skin barely hiding their shape, made him queasy. He hadn’t put on much weight at all.

\------

“Oh, wow! You built that all yourself?”

“Um, it’s on a server.. But this one is mine!”

Kyle was sitting at his desk, finishing up his Spanish homework and half listening to the conversation Kenny was having with Ike. The weightlessness in his limbs had started to subside as he ate but the feelings it brought with it lingered inside of him. He chewed the nail on his thumb, leg shaking as he reread the same sentence for the fourth time. 

“You can change bed colors now?”

“They did that  _ so _ long ago.”

Agitation swelled in Kyle and he spat out the nail he just chewed off, a nasty habit that had caused him to keep a small trash can by his desk. He groaned and turned away from his homework, deciding that he could look at it again tomorrow with fresh eyes. For now he just wanted to climb into bed and put the way he’d been feeling behind him. 

“Okay, buddy. Time to go.” Kyle said as he got up to guide his little brother out of the room. 

“But I didn’t get to show Kenny everything,” Ike whined, looking up at Kyle with pleading eyes, “Just five more minutes?  _ Please _ ?” He puffed out his lower lip in an attempt to sway Kyle.

“Nice try, but you’re not cute enough for that to work anymore.” Kyle teased, nudging his brother with his foot. 

“Cuter than  _ you. _ ” Ike stuck his tongue out as he closed his laptop and got to his feet. 

“Don’t worry bud, you can finish showing me tomorrow.” Kenny said, reaching over to muss up Ike’s hair and earning a laugh from the boy.

Kyle followed Ike to the door and after a hug goodnight, he closed and locked the door behind him. Kenny must have heard the metal clinking because he looked up from the floor with raised brows, a small playful smirk on his face.

“Locking the door?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, McCormick. Just an old habit.” Kyle was smiling despite himself as he made his way to his dresser to find a pair of pajama pants to change into.

He felt arms snaking around his waist, pulling him into an embrace from behind. Kenny rested his chin on Kyle’s shoulder, his breath hot and humid on his neck. Kyle ignored him as he searched through his drawers, though he felt his face getting hot and his glasses were fogging a little.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it.” Kenny’s mouth was on his skin now, kissing just below his ear.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Kyle laughed, shrugging Kenny off of his neck and turning to face him. He took a step back as he closed the dresser behind him, and Kenny stepped forward with him.

“I’m insulted, really.” He was leaning in and Kyle lowered his chin to angle down and kiss him but with a sly smile, Kenny changed paths and planted his kiss on Kyle’s cheek instead. “I’m only joking, anyways.”

“I’m sure you are. Now,” Kyle pressed his hand lightly against Kenny’s chest, making him take a step back. “Look away so I can change.” 

Kenny backed off, giving Kyle room to change and turned away. Though Kyle trusted him not to look, his hands still shook as he unbuckled his belt. He was acutely aware of Kenny’s presence behind him as his loose jeans fell from his small frame. While pulling his dark pajama pants on, he realized it wasn’t so much that he didn’t want Kenny to see him but that he didn’t want to be seen like  _ this _ . He didn’t want Kenny’s first look at him to be while he was so sickly and gaunt, he didn’t want to be seen as this small skeletal version of himself.

“Okay, you can look now.” Kyle turned, carrying his jeans to a basket next to his dresser, “You can look through and wear whatever you want, but I don’t know what’ll fit you.” 

He was draping his belt over the back of his desk chair when he heard Kenny let out a small, almost scoff of a laugh.

“This is a cute picture.” Kenny said, holding up the framed photo of Stan and Kyle as kids. Kyle had forgotten it was there.

“Oh, yeah. My mom put it in here when I was at the hospital.” He half lied, shrugging and shoving his hands into his pockets. He’d kept the picture since it was taken, but it was his mother that set it upright again. He made a mental note to ask her to stay out of his room when he wasn’t home and walked over to his bed. He rested his hand on the foot-board, watching Kenny carefully for a reaction. Kenny’s eyes lingered on the photo for a few moments, but his face was obscured and Kyle couldn’t read him. 

“I think I’m gonna go change in the bathroom.” Kenny said, placing the photo carefully back on the dresser.

“Yeah, alright.” 

Kyle’s shoulders sagged as Kenny left the room. He marched over to the picture with the intention of slamming it down onto the dresser but when he caught their faces he stopped. That version of them had nothing to do with any of this. It was another life, another world. More versions of them through the years flitted through his mind, some he rushed through with shame and others he held dearly until he reached last week. He remembered their fight over Kenny, how angry Stan seemed to be. He was at a loss as he thought about it all. There was so much history between the two of them, most of it made him cringe now but when it had happened it was great. Why couldn’t they seem to reconnect? Why was every interaction short lived or a fight?

He thought again to that night and the way he’d thrown himself into Kenny’s arms when he got home. He’d done that to spite Stan and regretted it now. He remembered Kenny asking about Stan, and wondered if that was why he reacted the way he did to the photo. Kyle wanted to understand but what did Kenny expect? They’d been bestfriends for as long as he could remember. He and Stan had been brothers, no they’d been more than brothers, they-

“Stop.” He hissed quietly to himself, pulling his hand away from the photo. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. His mind always ventured to  _ that _ and it always filled him with guilt and shame. Now more than ever, with the two of them so far apart. 

_ Do those nights ever cross your mind like that? _

His bedroom door opened and he gently turned the picture facedown against the top of the dresser as he smiled over at Kenny.

“You don’t have to do that for me.” Kenny gestured to the photo from across the room as he closed the door behind himself.

“It’s more for me if I’m being honest.” Kyle wrung his hands as he spoke, not wanting to look Kenny in the eyes. Kenny only nodded, taking his wallet and phone out of his jeans before tossing them into the laundry basket with Kyle’s.

“I’m ready for bed when you are.” He said, placing his things on the nightstand.

It was Kyle’s turn to nod now and he made his way slowly to the bed, he wasn’t certain of what Kenny was feeling or how he wanted him to react. He turned the lights off and watched as Kenny slid into the bed, just a silhouette in the moonlight. He locked the door again and walked carefully to his bed. He couldn’t shake the flight or fight response that had sneaked into him, and he almost felt afraid as he got into his own bed. His body was telling him to run, that vestigial reaction screaming in protest as he reached out to touch Kenny’s shoulder.

“Ken...Are you mad at me?” His voice was meek and he winced at the sound of it. Kenny rolled over to face him and took Kyle’s hand, intertwining their fingers. He sighed heavily and Kyle could almost see the emotions he was pushing down. How many times had he done that today?

“Of course I’m not mad at you.” He pressed his lips against Kyle’s knuckles. “I just...I don’t really understand a lot of what happened. Things that are still happening. And I want to talk about it all, but-” He reached up to touch Kyle’s hair, “I know it’s harder for you right now. I don’t want to put you through anything you aren’t ready for.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kyle glanced away. What was he supposed to do with that? He was grateful that Kenny was being careful with his feelings but if he wanted to coddle Kyle why had he gotten upset at the fact he changed? Was this all not supposed to change him? Kenny’s hand on his cheek brought his attention to his face, those kind eyes.

“I’ve lost you again.” 

“Sorry?”

“You always get a look on your face when you start thinking. It’s sad and your brows furrow - you look like you’re a thousand miles away.” Kenny was caressing his cheek, and Kyle followed the motion of his hand, bringing their faces closer.

“I didn’t know you noticed stuff like that.” Kyle admitted, glasses he’d forgotten to take off becoming clouded by their breath.

“Sure I do,  _ Honey _ .” Kenny grinned, pulling Kyle’s glasses off before leaning in and brushing their lips together. A tentative action, a question. Kyle felt his face getting hot and he answered by returning the gentle motion, leading them into a kiss.

The kiss melted away worries that had begun to pile up, and the tension in his shoulders faded. He was glad that Kenny had meant what he said about his hair, that he looked at him in that way. He was glad that this was the way the night was ending. His heart jumped the gun as he knew that he’d endure every horrible isolated moment from the months prior all over again, if only for this kiss.


	11. Hiatus!

Hi hello! I hope you're all well! Thanks so much for all support so far, I promise I'm not abandoning this I've already written the ending lol.

I just feel like I need a little bit of a break from heavy stuff. I just need to recharge and work on my animatic plus other personal projects I've been putting off to write this lmao. 

Anyways! Take this time to breathe and know that you're all good and you're loved (if no one loves you, I love you now those are the rules).

And if you're still sad rewatch The Last Airbender, that's how I'm coping.

I'll be back next Monday, on the 15th!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual trauma & repression. I don't usually write about anything relating to sex bc it makes me a little uncomfy not gonna lie, but I feel like it's pretty important to Kyle's character in this. I knew from the beginning that he'd struggle with it and trying not to put it in forced me into writers block, so uh,,, here it is. sorry, i think ? <3  
> also sorry it's short & a day late but i'm actually starting a fan comic on instagram - it's called sp.outoftime & it's gonna be a fun time travel thing focused on kenny if you wanna read it??

Stan looked older than Kyle remembered, more weathered and tired than the last time they met up. He was waiting for Kyle at the end of the dock, a half empty beer in hand as he smiled up. His blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight but Kyle was certain that the moon wasn’t out tonight.

“I didn’t think you’d show up, after last time.”

“I didn’t think you’d ask to meet again.” Kyle said, sitting next to his old friend. He didn’t remember taking off his shoes but his feet were bare and cold above the water.

“I’m really sorry about all of that, Red.” Stan's voice sounded gentle and sincere. His eyes were cast at Kyle but they seemed to be looking through him. 

Kyle could only shrug, he wanted to say that it was okay but it wasn’t. He took a swig of the beer in his hand. When had he grabbed that? It didn’t matter, the drink was settling into his chest with a dulled burning sensation as he looked up at the stars. He watched a pair of blinking lights drifting slowly through the sky, a plane interrupting the serenity of the constellations. He felt a hand on his own and he turned to see Stan, a small smile on his face.

“Why don’t we go for a swim?”

“I didn’t bring anything to swim in.”

“Neither did I.”

Stan stood up, pulling Kyle to his feet with him. Confusion sat in him until he saw that Stan was lifting his shirt above his head, taking it off. He understood and followed suit, too focused on the way the moonlight danced on Stan’s skin to be nervous about his own bony frame. He watched as Stan tugged off his jeans, taking in the shape of his legs as he clumsily unbuttoned his own. 

They were both undressed, and Kyle shivered in his boxers as he waited for Stan to move. His mind shifted momentarily to Ken, was this okay? It had to be, he decided, or he wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Why did he come here? Stan was taking his hands now, leading him down into the water. Kyle gasped as the frigid water hit his skin and he pressed himself into Stan, using him as a sort of barrier between himself and the icy feeling. 

It was so cold, but Stan’s hands were warm against him as he pulled him further into the water. He couldn’t help but to follow, and they drifted toward the middle of the pond. He trembled and looked up at Stan, his breath was a small cloud in the air before him and he realized he didn’t have on his glasses. He could see clearly though, the way Stan was eyeing him in the moonlight that shone down despite the dark sky. Stan was pulling him closer, grinning in a way that was all too familiar to Kyle.

“Do you remember this game?” He whispered, his fingertips stroking the inside of Kyle’s thigh, cloaked like a secret under the darkness of the water. 

“Yeah, I remember.” Kyle didn’t sound like himself, his voice was husky and breathless. He didn’t need Stan to clarify what he meant, he would never forget the way they would stay up when they were younger. The games they would play, hidden safely under the weight of Kyle’s blanket. The water was cold to the point of burning and Stan’s hand felt like a gentle reprieve from the icy temperature as it moved up his thigh. He waited with baited breath for what he knew was coming, for what he wanted to happen. 

“Are you nervous?” 

Kyle shook his head in a lie, he was more than nervous, but it was the right answer for what he wanted. Stan’s hand moved further up, warm fingers slipping into Kyle’s boxers.  _ This is wrong _ , He thought. He almost stopped but Stan was leaning in and his heart was pounding against his ribs so loudly, this couldn’t be wrong. This was all he wanted. Stan’s mouth was on his, a rough and hungry kiss that tasted like beer. Kyle pressed into it, a kiss that he’d felt a hundred times over when they used to be close. A kiss he missed more than anything.

Stan’s mouth was cold from the beer but Kyle didn’t mind. He didn’t mind when Stan bit his lip, when he drew blood. He didn’t mind when Stan was gripping his hair tightly in a fist, red strands smarting in pain under the force. This was all that he wanted, and he moved his own hands against Stan’s skin. It was so much warmer than everything else around him, unnaturally hot and almost burning his frozen palms.

It happened so fast that he could barely process it. One moment he was pushing his hips into Stan’s and the next he was submerged underwater. He didn’t understand why those gentle hands were on his face, covering his mouth and nose. He looked up through the surface of the water to see Stan grinning down at him, but in the moonlight he saw it was Kenny’s crooked teeth in his mouth. 

He dug his nails into Stan’s hands, thrashing under the water and making it impossible for him to see anything. His lungs were burning as he fought, trying to break the surface but Stan was too strong. He held him there for an eternity, Kyle fighting as hard as he could until the knowledge that this was the end came over him. Kyle could feel himself slipping away, his legs slowed their kicking and he soon stopped trying to pry Stan’s hands away. His eyelids sagged down and his vision darkened, a scream died in his throat as he looked up through the water. Stan was crying. 

\-----

  
  


Kyle cried out as he woke, his shirt clinging to his clammy skin. He was panting as he scrambled into a sitting position, telling himself it was just a dream. He didn’t do anything wrong and he was alive. A shaky hand was on his throat and he could still feel everything from the dream. The way Stan held him underwater, the painfully icy water. His mind held onto something else though, the hungry way Stan had kissed him and how it felt when his hands made their way up his thighs. Despite still feeling afraid and like he was suffocating from the worst part of the dream, he was aroused.

He shifted his legs in discomfort and he felt the shame rising in him. He didn’t want to feel this way, disgust bubbling in him as he wondered whether or not he could sleep it off. He usually tried to keep this feeling at bay, to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t there. It was normal, of course, but it always made him feel like something was wrong with him. Like he was dirty for wanting to feel what he’d felt in his dream; what he felt when he and Stan used to be close. This feeling was always accompanied by a sense of embarrassment, he was seventeen. He was  _ supposed _ to feel these things, but it felt so gross to him.

He was coming back to his senses, ignoring the feeling and listening to the gentle snoring of Kenny next to him. He’d forgotten he was there and his mind wandered for a moment as he looked at his friend. Kenny liked him didn’t he? How easy would it be to shake him awake and to initiate something? If Kyle kissed Kenny the way Stan used to kiss him, would he melt the same way? 

Kyle could feel his face getting hot as he thought about it, almost reaching out to see for himself but he couldn’t. What had started off as misunderstanding and explorative games between him and Stan had carried over into high school, and by then they knew what they were doing. They kept it up but they’d never had sex. He'd always imagined his first time would be with Stan and though they didn't talk anymore, a small part of him was holding out something resembling hope.   


Getting out of bed, Kyle disgusted at his younger self. He put his glasses on with shaking hands and as he made his way to the bathroom for a cold shower, he had to remind himself that it was okay. They didn’t understand the seriousness of what they were doing back then. It didn’t make him bad, did it? Maybe not. So why did it make him feel bad?

Cold water sprayed against Kyle’s back, shocking the drowsiness out of him but it did nothing for the feeling the dream brought with it. He considered his options, he could do what was expected or he could turn and face the cold water to force that feeling out of himself. Chewing on his lip, he turned the heat up in the shower. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was trying to convince himself that what he was about to do was natural.

_ It’s okay. Everyone does this. I’m allowed to feel this way. I’m allowed to do this. _

__

__ He kept his eyes closed and thought back to his dream, raking his fingernails over his thigh the same was Stan had. His skin rose in goosebumps and his breath slowed.  _ This is okay.  _ He reminded himself, ready to get it over with when a knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. He cried out and jumped, slipping for a moment but catching himself with the small handle on the shower wall. 

“Y-Yeah?” He called, voice breaking and agitation began to well up in him. 

“I’m sorry to rush you, but I’m having a little bit of an emergency out here.” Kenny answered from the other side of the door.  _ Yeah, me too. _ Kyle thought, sighing heavily before calling back to him.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Kyle turned off the water, wrapping a soft towel around his waist as he stepped out onto the bathmat. It was just his luck, the first time in weeks that he could talk himself out of the shame only to be interrupted. He grabbed his glasses from the bathroom sink and opened the door to see Kenny with a hand raised as though he were about to knock again. Kenny stepped aside, keeping his eyes on Kyle as he moved past him into the hallway. He recognized that look on Kenny’s face, the same way he’d been looked at by Stan in his dream and in real life only a year ago. Looking up at his friend he could imagine his mouth on his scabbed neck, hands buried in his wet hair and his hips moving against his own. 

Kenny’s eyes were drifting over his small body and he wondered how he looked to him. Pale and bony, were his ribs appealing under his translucent skin? His eyes moved down, settling on the towel and suddenly Kyle was very aware of the feeling between his thighs. He turned away, humiliated and sure that his friend had seen, and rushed back to his bedroom.

Back in his room, Kyle had dried off and dressed. It was only three in the morning but he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep. That feeling would keep him up, and even if he could manage to do something about it the guilt that came after would be too much for him to handle. So he sat on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest and chewing on his lip as he scrolled through forums with questions from years ago. Ghosts of boys like him, asking the void if what they felt was normal. Hidden behind anonymity, no holds barred as they detailed their experiences and comforted each other. 

He wished he could talk to them, find them somehow and have them reassure him that things got better. That they felt this way years ago but they were normal now, and it was okay. He could never bring himself to post anything, he was afraid that because all of the discussions were long since abandoned no one would be there for him. There would not be a boy like him to stumble into the forums and comfort him. No, that was a luxury reserved for everyone else.

The door to his bedroom was creaking open and he turned off his phone, shoving it under the pillow he was leaning against. He looked over to see Kenny stepping cautiously into the room. His usual air of confidence had been replaced by an awkwardness Kyle had never seen in him before. He watched as Kenny closed the door slowly behind himself, rubbing the back of his neck as he made his way to the bed. He sat down next to Kyle, but not too close. He seemed nervous and for some strange reason it put Kyle at ease.

“You know,” He looked up at Kyle, “If you ever want to, um. I mean, I’m always around and-” He moved closer and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Blue eyes locked onto Kyle’s and he placed a hand on Kyle’s thigh, just above his knee. “I  _ really _ like you. So if there’s anything you want, I’m always down.” 

What was Kyle supposed to say to that? How was he supposed to feel about a proposition, and one so clumsily thrown out? He thought it was sweet, and he really liked Kenny too but how was he supposed to admit the reason that feeling had overcome in the first place? He couldn’t very well say ‘ _ thanks so much for the offer but I’m not interested in you, I was just having a wet nightmare about my ex bestfriend.’ _ He looked away from Kenny, uncertainty in his chest.

“Thanks, Ken. I really like you too.”

Kenny smiled a wide and dopey smile, the awkwardness that had settled over him quickly fading away. He moved past Kyle and climbed into the bed beside him. Kyle didn’t move, just watched as Kenny made himself comfortable in his bed. A part of Kyle wanted to join him under the blankets, to kiss his neck and take him up on his offer but another part of him knew he wasn’t ready for that. That part of him knew that if anything happened now it would be Kenny touching him, but Stan he was remembering and thinking of. 

His heart weighed heavy in his chest as he came to this realization. How could he feel that way? Here was this wonderful, sweet boy, giving himself to Kyle and all he could do was reminisce about someone who doesn’t even think about him anymore. He slipped under the blanket and let himself be pulled into an embrace. He let Kenny kiss his cheek and bury his face in his back, but he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. He would wait until Kenny fell asleep and he would cry all of this emptiness and shame and confusion out of himself. He was so empty.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan listens to Local Nomad & that's because I DO make the rules  
> (also the goth kids absolutely would be that cringe about suicide, nihilistic little dudes would romanticize the heck out of it)

The next day at school was different. Kyle hardly spoke to anyone. He couldn’t focus on any of his schoolwork, despite using it as his only excuse to not talk. Kenny seemed to be in a lighter mood than the night before and was being more openly affectionate, but Kyle was distant. He didn’t mean to come off as uninterested but a part of him was. That part of him was holding onto the dream he had the night before; holding onto the way it felt to be kissed by Stan again. It felt so real and though he knew he shouldn’t, he wished it was. He would have been okay drowning, for another kiss. 

_ That’s so stupid. _

Kyle was washing his hands in the school bathroom, the cold water and cheap unscented soap doing little to assure him that his hands were really being cleaned. He’d been dreading the end of school all day, he didn’t want to be around anyone but he had an appointment with Mr. Abascal. The more sensible part of Kyle knew that his therapist was the best person to talk to about this emotional turmoil, that  _ was _ what he was being paid to do. But it made Kyle feel awkward, sure Mr. Abascal was his therapist but he was also just a man. Some random guy who Kyle knew next to nothing about, and Kyle was meant to pour his deepest fears out to him? 

He’d been in the bathroom for too long and knew that if he didn’t leave now he’d be home late and he didn’t have the energy to explain himself to his parents. Usually Kenny would drive him home but he said he wanted to walk today. He needed a little fresh air before he had to be prodded about his life. He felt a pang of guilt at that idea, Mr. Abascal was nice. Better than his last therapist, Kyle just didn't _like_ therapy. He understood the need for it but to him it was pointless, he had a therapist in the months leading up to his attempt but it didn't stop him from going through with it. Maybe it was his fault, though. Maybe he just had to be more open. Maybe Mr. Abascal could actually help.  


Making his way out of the bathroom, he held his phone in his hand with all intentions of pretending to be interested in whatever was on it to avoid eye contact with his peers but he found the halls to be empty. The school was eerie like this and Kyle realized that since coming back to school this was the first time he’d been alone in the school. The first he was alone at all, really. Barring sleeping and using the bathroom but even then Kenny spent most nights at his house, making his sleep just another thing being shared with someone else. He’d been more closed off today and he wondered if that was why he was feeling so down. Of course the dream started it, but he knew that when he was alone he let himself think. When he let himself think he ended up overthinking and worrying and wondering. 

Overall the time alone would be good, he decided as he pushed open the metal door at the end of the hall. He stepped out onto the concrete steps of the school’s back entrance, seeing that the school wasn’t as abandoned as he’d first thought. There were still a few stragglers, clad in black and eyeing him with vague indifference. He turned his eyes to the ground, watching his old faded shoes stumble forward. Was he walking normally? Was he too hunched over? Why were they staring? They were talking about him - weren’t they? No of course not, he wasn’t important enough to be talked about. He wasn’t important at all. 

_ Why didn’t I just leave from the front entrance?  _

“Hey, you’re that kid that was in Hell’s Pass all summer, right?” 

Kyle stopped in his tracks, looking up to see who was addressing him. He nodded, hands drifting to his satchel strap and nails digging into the leather. “I mean, it wasn’t  _ all  _ summer.” 

“Yeah,” The tall boy continued, flipping dark curly hair out of his face, “But it was most of it, so that’s the same thing.”

“I guess so.”

The boy took a drag of his cigarette, cold grey eyes watching Kyle from where he stood before he stepped forward. 

“The names Micheal, by the way.” He unfolded his arms and held a hand out, “Kyle, isn’t it?” 

Kyle shook Micheal’s hand before he could think about it, noticing the chipped black polish on his nails. 

“Erm, yeah I’m Kyle. Why are you talking to me? Oh- not that I don’t want to talk to you, it’s just-”

“Chill. I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Okay…”

Micheal stepped closer, the smell of smoke thick on his clothes. The other three kids that had been sitting with him watched with interest they didn’t bother to hide. He looked around slowly as if to check to see if anyone was around before lowering his voice. 

“Y’know a buddy of mine told me the reason you were in the hospital is because you tried to kill yourself. Is that true?” 

Kyle could feel his throat closing up, his jaw wagging in an attempt to refute the claim but only a small cough from the smoke came out.

“If it  _ is _ true, you can always stop by to hang out with us. We’re a home for those cast aside by society - if you’re like us… Well, we can be a chosen family, of sorts.”

“Besides,” One of the three other kids piped up. It chubby girl only a little younger than Micheal, leaning against the exposed brick of the school. “It’d be totally cool if you did try it. A true mark of your tortured soul, a show of your hatred for life.”

“ _ Henrietta. _ ” Micheal hissed, trying to get her to be quiet.

“Cool?” Kyle couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kids he hadn’t talked to since elementary school were suddenly interested in him because he tried to kill himself. They thought it was  _ cool. _ It was sick. He knew they were odd but he’d always thought that they were just edgy, he didn’t know that they would be so insensitive. 

He was backing away from the group, which had erupted into a small argument that he wasn’t entirely listening to. Micheal was chewing out Henrietta, though she didn’t seem to mind. The other two boys were just watching as Kyle tried to leave. A boy with roots dyed bright red was starting to say something before his attention was broken by the back door opening. He and Kyle looked over to see who it was at the same time. 

“Hey, Raven.” The boy with dyed roots said, flipping his two toned hair out of his eyes. 

“Hey Pete. Why are they fighting this time?” 

“Kid over there, Mike’s mad that Henry was being  _ unprofessional  _ about his hospital time _. _ ”

“Don’t call me Henry, you wanna-be.” 

Kyle was frozen in place, internally screaming at his feet to walk away but they weren’t listening. Time slowed as he watched Stan turn from the group, blue eyes settling on him and realization morphing his expression. 

“Kyle?” He looked from the Goths to him, shoulders falling with his face. 

“You told them?”

“No, not on purpose - dude I would never-” 

“Oh my god, who else did you tell? Does the whole town know?”

“They’re my friends, I was just venting-”

“You were venting to  _ your friends _ about  _ my suicide _ ?” All of the feelings of warmth and interest toward Stan that the dream brought the night before were suddenly replaced by anger. He choked out a scoff, “I’d say I can’t believe that but honestly it’s  _ exactly _ what I expect from you.” He turned on his heel and started to walk away, his feet finally listening to his commands. 

“I bet he didn’t even try anything.”

“Probably one of those that try it for attention.” 

It was getting harder to breathe and Kyle was regretting his decision to walk home. He should have just gone home with Kenny. Now he was going to have to go through an anxiety attack  _ and _ have to sit through an hour with his therapist. Maybe he could convince his parents that he could go tomorrow. He wondered for a moment what was wrong with him. This was the perfect time to see a therapist, wasn’t it? To go and sort through his emotional distress? So why was it when he was on verge of breaking that seeing a professional was the last thing he wanted to do? 

_Did_ _he_ just want attention?

Stan caught up with him before Kyle even realized he was being followed. He grabbed the back of Kyle’s sweater, pulling him to an abrupt stop. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them anything, I was just really upset when I found out and it slipped out when I was hanging out with them.”

Kyle yanked himself away from Stan, cursing his mind as his eyes flitted to his lips and he thought briefly about how they used to feel against his own. It was stupid. He couldn’t think about that. 

“ _ Look _ , I don’t care. I mean, what gives you the right to tell  _ anyone _ about what I did? I just got the nerve to tell Ken and-”

“Wait, Kenny?” 

“Yeah, Kenny. So what?”

“Dude, Kenny found out when I did. Your parents told us both," Stan was moving closer, eyes searching Kyle's face, "He-he called me right after he found out to make sure I’d actually go to the hospital to see you.” 

Nausea had come over Kyle, his stomach flipping with the news. It couldn’t be true. Why would Kenny lie to him? He turned away from Stan, doubling over as bile rose in his throat. He stumbled to the edge of the sidewalk, pushing his satchel out of the way as he threw up in a patch of dead grass. He hadn’t eaten yet today and all that came up was clear stomach acid. It tasted faintly of his dinner, burning the inside of his nose and the back of his throat. 

The dry heaving continued long after his stomach had been emptied and he sat crouched on the sidewalk. Bleary eyes looking at the mess he’d made, tears had come with the vomit but he was sure most of it was due to his emotions as well. Stan was beside him, rubbing his back and telling him that he was going to be okay. The energy that had been sapped from him made it so that he leaned into the comforting action instead of pulling away like he knew he probably should. 

They sat there for a few minutes, until Kyle’s ringing phone brought him back to the moment. He blinked away his tears, wiping bile and snot from his face with the hem of his sweater as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.  He cursed as he read the caller ID and tried to stand but his legs gave out underneath him. 

“Hey, careful.” Stan caught him before he hit the ground, helping him slowly to his feet as he answered his phone. 

“H-hey mom- oh, yeah I know. No, I wanted to walk home tod- yes he offered. No, you don’t need to co-. Okay. I’ll be there soon. I love you too.” 

Kyle hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket with shaking hands. He took off his glasses, partly to clean then and partly so he didn’t have to look at Stan as he readied himself to ask for a favor he really wished he didn't need. 

“I hate to ask this of you..especially after getting so angry, but…” He finished cleaning his glasses and put them on, looking over at Stan. 

“But?” 

“Can you give me a ride home?”

Stan let out a small laugh before quickly looking away and clearing his throat. 

“I’m really sorry, it’s just that I have an appointment with my therapist and I was so caught up in all of  _ this _ that I’m gonna be late if I try to walk now.” 

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll take you home.” 

\-------

To call the atmosphere in Stan’s truck uncomfortable would be an understatement. Kyle was watching Stan, though not really meaning to and it was no doubt unnerving him. That was the impression Kyle got from the way he kept glancing over at him, anyways. He looked over again, shifting uncomfortably under Kyle’s gaze and he finally took the hint and turned away. Instead he tried to focus on the music Stan put on when they got in, it was pretty quiet but he could still hear some of the lyrics through the upbeat tempo.

**_You've been changing your mind_ **

**_All of the time_ **

**_I can see it in your eyes_ **

**_You think I'm colorblind_ **

He very quickly decided that listening to the song wasn’t the best idea and racked his brain for something to say. What could he talk about? Was there anything to talk about that was casual enough for this drive? Chewing on his lip he thought about the dream he had for the hundredth time today, but this time he pushed past the kiss. Why had Stan drowned him? What did that mean? Did it mean anything?

“I’m sorry.” 

Stan’s voice surprised Kyle, and so did what he said.

“Oh, for what..?”

A shake of Stan’s head was all he got in response at first, a small stretch of silence welling up before he spoke. It wasn’t very long but it was enough to make Kyle uneasy, restless hands picking at the scabs on his neck.

“For everything, dude. Just like - I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to us.” Stan was pulling into Kyle’s driveway, his voice had taken on an agitated tone. It seemed to Kyle that his frustration was directed more at himself though. 

“I don’t really know either...but don’t worry about it, it’s all good. Thanks for the ride, man.” He unbuckled and pulled his satchel on. He was about to open the door but stopped himself. It was just last night that he was desperate for closure, was he really going to throw that away because he felt nervous? Even if he didn’t want closure, Stan seemed to know more about Kenny that he wasn’t saying. Kyle had to know what else Kenny was lying about. That was reason enough, wasn't it?  


“Actually, you know, if you ever want to hang out or anything. Um, I guess I wouldn’t  _ hate _ it.” Kyle offered a small laugh, hoping the joke would land and ease the tension. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be total hell,” Stan joked back, “When are you free?”

“Oh!” Kyle ran his fingertips over his throat as he thought, “I sort of already have plans tomorrow but, hm. We have that four day weekend coming up next week. Could we sort something out then?” 

“Sure thing.”

“Well. I’ll see you Monday.” 

\-----

Mr. Abascal’s office was the same as the last time Kyle was here, the only difference being the color of his therapist’s button up and the arrangement of the plants. They seemed to rotate with each visit, as did the stacks of paper on Mr. Abascal’s desk. 

“Ah, good afternoon Kyle! You look well, having a good day today?” Mr. Abascal’s voice was bright and cheery, something Kyle had yet to get used to. 

“Sort of, um. Mostly bad, actually.” He toyed with the hem of his shirt, he’d changed out of his sweater and brushed his teeth as soon as he got home. He worried suddenly about the marks on his neck and whether or not he had toothpaste on his mouth.

“Sit, sit. Tell me.” Mr. Abascal said, making his way behind his desk, Kyle noted that his white hair was braided into a bun today.

Kyle settled into the chair in front of Mr. Abascal’s desk, his leg starting to shake as he went through the day in his head. He placed a firm hand on his knee, forcing his leg to stop moving. He took in a deep breath to calm himself and wondered where to start, there was so much that he had to say. His thoughts were a tangled ball of yarn, there was no end to grab onto and he didn’t have a way to know which string was the right one to pick up. Impatient with himself, he chose at random. 

He would start with the summer before his attempt.   



	14. Chapter 14

got some mental health stuff going on - don't know if i'll ever continue this. sorry.


End file.
